Influence of Time
by MonAnge1863
Summary: I should've never come here. I knew the risks, but I didn't matter. It was he who lured me here; and he who made me leave it... I float here in this blinding white space of nothing to wait. Waiting for what's to come.
1. The Mysterious Rose

**Hello all! I'm so sorry to just leave you hanging, but I feel like Lost in Time should've been much better for you guys! So here you go, and please, Enjoy! **

The Mysterious Rose-

Paris France, 2014~

It was a warm, midsummer's eve. The sun was just beginning to set when a cold, Northern breeze drifts into my open bedroom window, playing with the curtains and caressing my cheek as I read a novel in bed. The cold air chilled my skin, causing me to involuntarily shudder, and reluctantly wrench myself from the twisting plot of my book, The Phantom of the Opera, to shut the window.

Before I do, however, I take in the incredible sight before me. Paris was washed in the glowing hues of a sunset; the Eiffel Tower a mere silhouette in the distance; shadows play throughout the streets. From below the window of our new house, I could hear the sounds of jazz music, laughter, and fleeting conversation coming from Le Cafe de la Rose down the rue, along with the overwhelming scent of roses and red wine.

I take in the scene in delight. This was a much better view than the rolling hills of our country home in Virginia. All of it seems like a dream! One month, I'm living in the small town of Warm Springs, the next I'm in Paris! Sighing in bliss, I close the open panel of my bay window, then go back to my bed to find where I left Raoul and Nadir in the Cellars.

I've read the book at least thirty times; the pages well worn and creased. I got it as a birthday present when I was twelve from my friend, Ruth. I still remember the confusion I had when I tore away the music note gift wrap, and finding a note attached to its cover (I still have the note in a scrapbook i made with pictures of me and Ruth from Middle school to when I moved end of sophomore year).

_"My Christine,_

_ May you be a shining star, and maybe_

_ you can find your Erik someday! ;)_

_ Your Beloved Friend, _

_ R.H." _

I finally caught onto the joke soon after reading it that very night. I poured over each page with wonder, entranced by the dynamic of the plot and characters. I became obsessed with it. I watched all the play and movie adaptations, and even published a collection of Phantom themed poems on a fanfiction website. My main source of captivation was of Erik, or the Opera Ghost, because of his haunted past, and his search for affection in a world of hate and scorn.

As I neared the end of the book, I couldn't help but think about the move. Our house was packed away, ready to make the International trip to our new home. My parents had decided it was for the best if it could help me activate faster.

Allow me to introduce and explain myself. My name is Christine Elizabeth Delacroix, Daughter of Harmony and James Delacroix. In both sides of my family, there is an inherited mutation in our DNA. This mutation causes the effected member to be able to travel to the past. With these families scattered all over the world, there are laws that we must obey that were established by the eight members of the Heavenly Order, our sort of parliament, if you will. Of these laws, one of the most important law to follow is that a traveler must never alter the passage of time in an extreme way. If you do, It's rumored that the Order will strip you of the mutation, and send you back to your present with no memory of even having it at all.

The mutation usually activates when the traveler is fourteen, but they can't exactly control it until seventeen. Until that time comes, all travelers take lessons in etiquette, history, language and defense for each era. I'm sixteen, but I haven't gotten activated yet (call me a late bloomer). Because of that, we moved to my dad's hometown to see if that would help speed up the process (which I hope it will).

I finish my book well after sunset; my eyes starting to tire with fatigue. I place the book on my nightstand, then sleepily cross my room to get into pajamas. Too tired to pick up my clothes from the floor, I lumber back to my bed to sleep. Before I even climb into bed, however, I see a beautiful red rose resting atop my book.

Bewildered, my tired eyes widen in shock. I gently pick up the rose, finding that, tied to the slender, thorn less stem, with a silk ribbon the color of a glossy raven's wing.

'How did this even get here,' I thought to myself.

'My door was closed the whole time...'

My groggy mind tried pondering over this mystery, but it was very late, and I needed rest.

Deciding to inhale the scent of the rose before thinking too long on this, I put it to my nose. As I smell the delightful, familiar perfume of the rose, my nose detects a trace of another lingering scent; a combination of sage and a musky, forest-like smell. Almost like cologne, but nothing I've ever smelled before. It was oddly comforting, this scent, and it sent chills up my spine.

I set my rose on my well worn copy of The Phantom of the Opera, and climb into bed, turning off my reading light. thoughts of who had given me the rose race through my mind sluggishly. I drift to sleep with the image and lingering scent of the rose ingrained into my mind.

**See? This is much better, in my opinion. But tell me what you think! I'd love to hear from yo**


	2. Thoughts and Anger

**Here's the next chapter! Hope you like the new things that are happening with this new adaptation of Lost in Time! Enjoy! **

Thoughts and Anger-

When I wake up the next morning, thoughts of the rose come to mind, and I look over to my nightstand to see if it was still there, and not a figment of my imagination. Sure enough, the rose still rests on my book where I had left it last night, Its perfume becoming more pronounced. I rise out of bed, then tear my gaze from the flower as I get ready to explore the town for the day.

After getting dressed in a lace shirt and acid washed shorts, I clean my room and make my bed. As I finish pulling the comforter to the pillows as I usually do, my eyes rest on an elegantly framed picture sitting on my night stand. I pick it up, then sit on my bed, cradling it in my hands. It was a picture of one of the last times I saw Ruth before the move. It was Halloween, and we were both dressed as the Phantom. In the picture, our smiling faces gaze up at me, frozen in that moment. Suddenly, an overwhelming sense of anger and homesickness wash over me like a tidal wave. I put the picture back on the nightstand, my face turning away in the mix of emotions now putting me in a foul mood. I grab my brown satchel with my phone, wallet, and a book inside and leave my room.

I walk down the spiral staircase to find that my parents were waiting for me at the bottom; they never start breakfast without me, no matter how late it was. Muttering under my breath, I say to myself, with a scowl,

"Perfect. Now I feel even worse..."

"Christine, we have breakfast waiting," my mom said, guiding my dad and I to the six seated dining room table laden with my favorite breakfast; french toast drenched with syrup and scrambled eggs and bacon, with orange juice as a refreshment. My dad takes his usual place at the front, with mom on his left, and me on the right.

Even though it was my favorite foods, I hardly picked at it in my foul temper. Dad noticed the odd behavior and asked, in a worried tone:

"Christine, what's the matter? I thought this was your favorite."

"I'm not hungry," I reply, mumbling into my plate. I was growing increasingly angry that we were not in Virginia instead. I mean, I had too leave the only life I knew to start a new one overseas. Without any of my friends. I wasn't exactly in a happy mood this morning.

"Christine. Look at me. Something is definitely wrong. What's-" my dad started, but I interrupt him, looking directly into his eyes.

"You want to know what's wrong? Fine, I'll tell you. It's because you sent me _overseas _to uproot from the only life I knew in Virginia to restart in Paris! Now a can't see my friends anymore because of it! I never wanted to leave Virginia, even if it was for Paris!" I snap.

"Honey, it's-" my mom starts to try to reassure me, but I continue on.

"For the best?! How is this any better? I don't know ANYONE here! I'd rather be in Warm Springs with the life that I did have than in Paris with no friends at all!" I rise from the table angrily, clattering the dishes. I storm to the front door, to get away form all of this. To be alone. Dad follows close behind, saying,

"Christine, wait! I'm sorry, I never-"

I spin around to face him, the blood boiling in my veins.

"Never what? Ruin the life I had to move for some small hope?! I don't want to see you ever again! I Hate you," I shout, venom dripping from every word.

His face paled, then fell, stunned into silence. As my venomous words sunk in, he seemed to have aged a decade. I should've felt remorse, but all I felt was the anger caused by moving here, too angry to care. Before he could say a word, I open the front door, slamming it behind me.

I walked around Paris aimlessly, my mind racing at a million miles per hour. After walking to the Champs Elysees, I buy myself something to eat from one of the cafes. I was hungry, considering I hardly touched my food this morning. After paying for the meal, I head over to a nearby park to read the book in my satchel; Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. I was absorbed into the story, and quickly lost track of time. I check my phone. It's four in the afternoon. Marking my place in my book, I set out for home, looking to apologize for my horrible mood earlier this morning.

When I was close to home, I noticed a big crowd of reporters, police, and neighbors barricaded to Le Cafe de la Rose. I pushed through the crowd, hoping I could get home and find what was going on; I was scared. At last, I reached the front of the crowd, and I saw it. A piece of the cafe's building had crashed onto the pavement, crashing onto the cobblestone street. I glimpse a flash of red underneath the rubble, but before I got a close look, a policeman of heavy build stood in my view. In french, he barked for me to keep back.

"Vous ne pouvez pas passer, mademoiselle!"

I quickly explained to him that I lived in the neighborhood.

"s'il vous plait, monsieur! J'habites ici!" I point to my house, where I saw mom on the front stairs of our home. He finally lets me through with a dismissive grunt.

I sprint to my house, my eyes starting to water.

"Mom!" I shout to her, running to her arms. She held me tight, crying into my hair, and she said

" Christine!T-thank God you're a-alright! S-Something terrible happened..." she falters, coming out of my hair to look at me with tear filled eyes.

"I saw that... Mom, what's going on? Where's dad?" I ask, worried.

from the look on my mom's face, I could tell that it's not going to be good news. Tears fall down her cheeks as she tries telling me.

"Your dad w-was right underneath t-the rubble when it f-fell... He's-" I don't hear the rest of her sentence. I see her mouth the words, but I don't hear them. My mind goes numb, and the tears I had held back flowed freely on my cheeks. Trembling, I fall to my knees, knowing what she said...

_"He's dead..." _

those two words echo into my blank mind, and my world is deprived of color. Of warmth. I feel the arms of my mother encasing me, but I don't notice them. I scream in anguish, shouting

"Daddy!" a river of tears flowing from my face.

**So.. Way more dramatic, and there is still more to come! Tell me what you think, because to me, this chapter was a definite tear-jerker ;(**


	3. In the Dark

**I'm going to be gone all day tomorrow, so I'm posting chapter 3 early. Kudos and virtual Kleenexes to all of those who made it past chapter 2, and Enjoy this next chapter! **

In the Dark-

~Five levels below the Palais Garnier, 1883~

I sit in the parlor, my hands raking through my hair in frustration to keep me from containing the terrible temper threatening to burst forth from me. All I'm creating is meaningless smoke and noise; I cannot urge anything more from my music. Ever since Christine chose the Viscount de Chagny, my music has been deprived of a voice to breathe life into them, to make it take wing..

Suddenly, I hear my piano playing on its own accord! Startled from my near tantrum, I race from the parlor to my music room to investigate. Then, I hear it; the voice I've been searching for! It was pure and crystalline, full of raw emotion. I burst into the room, and find... Nothing at all! As quickly as it had come, the voice and the piano stopped, leaving me , dumbfounded, in the middle of the room. I had drawn one conclusion. I wanted, nay, I needed, that voice!

~Paris France, 2014~

The time that had passed after my screams became oblivious to me; I moved as if I was controlled by a puppeteer. My eyes produced an everlasting flow of tears as I felt the sting of my last words to my dad. It felt as though I had been slapped, and I deserved it. I could never take back the venomous last words, the pain contorted on his face as I said them, nothing. the feelings of intense guilt and remorse haunted my mind as lingering reminders of what I had done. Words of my own and my mothers had caused another slap in the face in a never ending loop in my blank, zombie-like mind.

_"He's dead..."_

_"I Hate you!"_

I excused myself from the scene, entering my home through a black door; climbing the grey staircase to my sea of grey. My immediate action as I set foot in my room was to play my piano; to get lost in the intricate melodies in comfort. It didn't matter what I played, as long as I could suppress the hell I'm going through, and distract myself from it.

I absently pressed the worn ivory keys of my vintage Baldwin; my mind was thinking of everything and nothing all at once, playing snippets of random chords from works ranging from early classical to contemporary. I then find myself playing and singing Lost in Paradise.

_"I've been believing in something so distant,_

_as if I was human._

_And I've been denying this feeling of hopelessness,_

_in me, in me._

_All the promises I made,_

_just to let you down._

_You believed in me, but I'm broken.._

_I have nothing left,_

_and all I feel is this cruel wanting._

_We've been falling for all this time,_

_and now, I'm lost in paradise._

_As much, I'd like the past not to exist,_

_it still does._

_And as much as I'd like to feel like I belong here, _

_I'm just as scared as you._

_I have nothing left._

_And all I feel is this cruel wanting._

_we've been falling for all this time,_

_and now, I'm lost in paradise. _

_Run away.. Run away,_

_one day we won't feel this pain anymore._

_Take it all away, _

_shadows of you._

_'Cause they won't let go until I have nothing left._

_And I will feel this cruel wanting._

_We've been falling for all this time,_

_and now, I'm lost in paradise._

_Alone, and lost in paradise..."_

As I sing the last of the song, tears stream down my face. I crawl into bed to curl into myself, sobbing openly. My mom came in a few moments after, cradling my sobbing form into her arms, her hand stroking my hair. My eyes are severely swollen and red, and my throat raw from screaming. She says soothing words into my ear as she rocks me, but it falls deaf on my ears. I bury my head into her chest, letting her calm me down. Eventually, my mom put me back to my bed, with one last hug before she left me to my world of grey.

I glance over to my nightstand to gaze at the picture of me and Ruth for comfort, but a crystal vase blocks my view. I gasp in surprise. I find my rose among five other identical ones surrounding it, a big, black silk ribbon tied to the neck of the vase. Within the sea of grey surrounding them, the roses in the vase radiate with vibrant color; my only bit of color in my world of grey.

A tired smile stretches over my ear glistened cheeks as I laid my head on my pillow facing the nightstand. I start to drift asleep, but last thoughts of the mystery sender shone through. Whoever it was, they understood my hurt, my pain; they cared enough to give me hope in a time where I thought there was none just moments before. The last thing I see is the vase of roses, the perfume and cologne scent lulling me to sleep for the first night without my dad.

**I changed the song... And did you catch the references in my words? Please tell me what you think!**


	4. Forgiveness

**So sorry for not posting yesterday! I was doing my summer reading for IB English.. Very boring. Now, on to the story! **

Forgiveness-

~2014~

Weeks had passed since dad had died. Mom coped, but, I didn't know how. It was like a dark shadow fell over everything I did, preventing any joy from coming through. I've kept myself shut off from the world, staying in the sanctuary of my room. My dreams had turned into nightmares for consecutive days, threatening to take hold of me.

The dream that appeared the most often was about the last moments of dad's life. I would be near; a silent witness to his fate, not able to save him in time. Even if I ran to him to warn him, the tumbling piece of building was always quicker. I would awake screaming, my body covered in sweat. It became a natural thing, these dreams, and I had no control of them.

Sitting on the piano bench, I hesitantly put my hands on the keys. These are the very same keys that have seen my pain, my hurt. My hands find the chords for Lost in Paradise. As I start to sing, I can feel my heart beating to the pulse of the music, and fresh tears threaten to spill onto my cheeks. They overflow, falling on my face and onto the keys as I sing. My hands start to tremble, but I still continue to play. When I strike the final chords of the song, I put my face in my hands, bursting to tears.

My crying stops for a rare moment, and I think of dad. The things we did that caused joy, and the many memories made with him. I recall a memory I haven't thought of in years. It was when I was five, and I was first learning how to ice skate.

_" You can do it Christine. Skate over to me."_

_" I can't, daddy! I'm going to fall!"_

_Skating over to him, I can feel my weight wobble out of balance, like a bike with the training wheels off for the first time. My weight shifted harshly to the right, making me fall. _

_"daddy!"_

_His strong arms caught me, taking me by surprise. _

_"I got you, Christine. It's ok. You did amazing for your first try! I'm so proud of you, mon ange!"_

_I looked up at his face, smiling. He had a beaming smile, and kissed the top of my head._

_"Do you want to try again?"_

_"Yes daddy!" _

_After that, I skated pretty well, and skated around the whole rink._

Tears welled up again, only.. these were tears of joy. I would give anything to see that beaming smile again. Then, a vivid memory comes back to me; the last memory I have of my father. We fought, and the last words I ever spoke to him were "I don't want to see you ever again! I Hate you!"

I finally realize what I had done. Those were the last words he ever heard from me. I still remember the pained look on his face that seemed to age him by a decade before I stormed off outside.

"Oh, God! What have I done?" I burst into tears again, and I finally reach a logical solution.

I get ready to head out. I'm going to church, to repent for those hurtful words I spoke to my dad, and pray for forgiveness. As I compose myself to brace for the world, I shut my door, leaving behind all of that hurt and pain I had. As I walked past, I could feel the stares and whispers of the people on the streets. Talking about the accident. I only walked faster, my head bowed down to keep myself from crying. Finally, I reach the church, sighing in relief.

The church was a simple, yet elegant building. all of the windows were stained glass scenes depicting certain bible stories, painted with vibrant colors as if painted yesterday. Candelabras line the walls, and many rows of pews occupy the middle of the church. I seat myself in a pew near the front, bowing my head to pray.

As my mind rests in the meditative state of prayer, I can hear the sounds of the empty church. The faint music coming from the organ, the muffled sounds of the world outside, and the occasional patter of feet running across the room from the church mice living here. It seemed as though I was there for hours, with nothing to pry me from the deep, meditative state I was in.

Suddenly, I hear the church doors open, and my eyes fly open, my heart pounding with fear. I rise to my feet, and turn around. I realize it was only the minister coming in for his daily devotional prayer. With a sigh of relief, I quickly gather myself, and start to walk to the door.

"I came to repent for my sins, father," I spoke into the silence, catching his attention.

"Well, alright child. follow me."

I follow him into confession, and I take a seat.

"What do you wish to repent upon, mademoiselle?"

"The last words I spoke to my dad. They were cruel, and he died with those words of anger from me."

"I'm sure he already knows that you do in fact love him."

"But the pained look on his face after I said it has... has haunted me since his death. I-I don't know what to do!" Tears start to fall down my face, the wound I had given myself reopened.

"Come now, don't cry. What you can do, mademoiselle, is to pray for forgiveness. Believe that God will tell your father you're sorry, and that you really do love him."

I stop crying heavily, and take this into consideration.

"I will, father. T-thank you..."

"Your quite welcome. I'm always hear to relieve a troubled heart. Au revoir, mademoiselle."

"Au revoir, father Leroux."

I stay a little while longer, doing as father Leroux instructed.

"God, if you're there, please, tell my dad I never meant to say those words. Please forgive me for the harsh words I have said, and tell him I love him, and miss him very much. Amen."

I come home, and get bombarded with questions as I walk in the door.

"Christine, where were you? You had me worried sick! Why didn't you tell me you were going anywhere?"

"Mom," I said in reply.

"I'm alright. I just went to the church to confess about what I said to dad the day he died. I just couldn't bear to know those words had been the last ones he ever heard from me. I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I was in a rush to get this matter resolved."

Her expression softened as she replied in surprise

"Did you really? Oh, sweetheart, come here." She pulls me into a hug, making tears come.

"Your dad loved you very much, and still does. It was a good thing you went to the church for your trouble, instead of turning to drugs or alcohol..." I laugh a little; moms can be so overprotective.

"You know I would never do that, mom."

"I know. Come on, lets go have some dinner. I made your favorite; Fettuccine Alfredo!"

After I helped mom with the dishes, I return to my room, tired and ready to go to bed. I open my door, and automatically see a note propped up on the vase of my now wilting roses; I never found any cause to throw them out. Surprised, I pick it up. I break the red wax seal, and find the note is written in a clumsy script in red ink, like an eighth grade boys.

_Christine- _

_I have not a clue to who you are, and how I know your name, but I just want you to know that I know exactly that kind of pain and hurt your going through right now. you are my inspiration to keep living. And I want you to keep persevering through these troubled times. It will get better, I assure you. _

_O.G._

**Wasn't that sweet?! Tell me what you think!**


	5. Notes and Memories of long ago

**Here's the next chapter for you! Enjoy!**

Notes and memories of long ago-

~1883~

I bolt upright from a rare slumber in a cold sweat. The dream was so real, it was as though I was there. The emotions so vivid, so lifelike, it was downright terrifying, though not much can scare me. It's already starting to slip away, but I lumber over to the kitchen to make myself some tea to calm my nerves.

As soon as the tea was nice and strong, I pour myself a cup. Thoughts of the girl that appeared in my dream start churning through my mind. 'Who was she? Why did I dream of her, much less gift her with roses?' This was the second time this happened, though it was the first time the girl actually had spoken anything less than the few words exchanged to a minister.

She had sung the song I had heard in the cellars the day before I had the first dream. One of hurt, pain, and loss. What if she was the same voice I heard? As I pondered over this, I heard the song again, but more clearer than it was before; I could hear every word this time.

I rush over to my piano, and, lo and behold, it was playing by itself! I heard her voice tearfully sing the song as though she was the one playing it, but no one was there!

_"I've been believing in something so distant,_

_as if I was human._

_And I've been denying this feeling of hopelessness,_

_in me, in me._

_All the promises I made,_

_just to let you down._

_You believed in me, but I'm broken.._

_I have nothing left,_

_and all I feel is this cruel wanting._

_We've been falling for all this time,_

_and now, I'm lost in paradise._

_As much, I'd like the past not to exist,_

_it still does._

_And as much as I'd like to feel like I belong here, _

_I'm just as scared as you._

_I have nothing left._

_And all I feel is this cruel wanting._

_we've been falling for all this time,_

_and now, I'm lost in paradise. _

_Run away.. Run away,_

_one day we won't feel this pain anymore._

_Take it all away, _

_shadows of you._

_'Cause they won't let go until I have nothing left._

_And I will feel this cruel wanting._

_We've been falling for all this time,_

_and now, I'm lost in paradise._

_Alone, and lost in paradise..."_

I waited, half in shock, the other half in wonder at the sight before me. Jokingly, I thought 'The opera ghost is being haunted by another ghost? That's preposterous!' Suddenly, a silence fell over the room. The song was over. Still shocked, I sit on the piano bench. It was warm. When I had cause to look at the keys, a few of them had drops of liquid on them... tears? Shaking, I look over to my manuscripts. There, on a few sheets of new parchment I bought yesterday, was the song. I then drop them, as though they suddenly turned into hot iron.

What's going on?! That question floated through my mind as I ran some errands; I wasn't progressing further with my pieces today, not after what happened this morning. And those words, they were expressed with such raw emotion, as if- as if the girl from my dream had been there in my lair. Shaking my head, I finish my errands, and return home. Somehow, I just couldn't stop thinking of her...

When I returned, I suddenly got the urge to play that song that was written on the parchment. As I started playing, I felt an intense wave of emotions crash over me. Emotions that I haven't felt in a long time, long since locked away in my heart. These were emotions of loss, anger, and pain. The last time I felt such emotions was when I was but a child, when a band of mean chldren at the orphanage killed my dearly beloved friend, Sasha. Tears threatened to spill from my eyes, just as that poor girl did. The song was over,and the emotions faded away, just like a wisp of fog into the night.

Only one tear escaped my eyes, falling onto a piano key; just as many tears of the girl's had. I've always kept that memory locked away in myself, never to be relived again. But here I was, crying for my dear Sasha once more. I look at the time. Half past ten. Weary from that relived memory, I prepare for bed. Before I settle to sleep, however, I act on something I had turned over all day. I decide to write her a note. Getting parchment and ink, I start to write.

_Christine- _

_I have not a clue to who you are, and how I know your name, but I just want you to know that I know exactly that kind of pain and hurt your going through right now. you are my inspiration to keep living. And I want you to keep persevering through these troubled times. It will get better, I assure you. _

_O.G._


	6. De'ja Vu

**I'm SO sorry I couldn't update IOT for about a month! I completely forgot about it, but I will try to have at least til chapter 10 up before school starts up again; then I might REALLY forget... Oh well. Here's the next long awaited chapter! Enjoy!**

De'ja Vu-

-Present Day-

As I finish reading the note, I'm stunned speechless. After a few moments of shocked silence, I still clutch the note firmly in my hand. O.G?! That's Opera Ghost, which can only mean... I'm connected to him in some sort of supernatural way. That's the only explanation I can think of for the roses, and this note... Or, this might be a very elaborate hoax upon which the only cause is to take me out of my depressed state, which; I have to admit, was working. After the initial shock wears off, I start to laugh.

'Why would Phantom be interested in me? What have I done to... Wait a moment.' I manage to stop myself right in my train of thought. Of course! the dreams! I sang in my recent dreams, and when I was awake! This explains everything! My gene has finally started to kick in, but in such an odd way... I have to tell mom!

For the first time in about a month, I actually eat with my mom. Going down to the dining room, I contemplate on how I'm going to tell her. 'Should I just blurt it out, or should I put it casually in the conversation?' I shake my head. I can only imagine how that would work out. 'Hey mom, while I was hibernating in my room, my gene kicked in through my genes, and it was connected by the Phantom.'

When I finally approach the doorway, I take a deep breath, then step through the threshold. I hear my mom gasp, and I look up to see the surprised expression on her face. After I take my seat, she starts hounding me with questions. Typical of a mother.

"Are you feeling alright honey? Is it getting any better for you?"

"I'm fine mom, and it's getting better to cope, little by little. But I guess that's what comes with losing a loved one, right," I ask, a smile starting to form on my hardened features.

After a few moments of silence, I start to tell her about my situation.

"Hey, mom? What was your experience like when you first traveled back?"

"Well, I was at home, and in my room. I was studying when I felt a wave of nausea pass over me. Next thing I knew, I was standing in the middle of a cobblestone street in the 1800's. Why?"

"Well, I think- I think my gene kicked in."

"That's great honey! I knew it would kick in faster in France! So what was it like?"

"Well, I haven't physically traveled back yet, but I have a physiological connection with a man in 1883. A specific man, to be exact."

"Well, that's odd, but not rare for travelers. Who are you connected to?"

"Erik."

My mother's smile fades.

"you don't possibly mean...?"

"Yes, it's him. The Opera Ghost, I'm sure of it. He sent me roses and a note."

"Oh, dear... It might be because of your passion for music, or that story itself..."

She goes silent, which scares me even more than her first reaction to the news. In the silence that follows as we eat, I can only wonder why my mother was acting like that.

After the meal is finished, mom just abruptly walks from the room, causing my confusion to rise.

\- Harmony Delacroix's perspective-

After the first conversation with Christine in a month, I'm rendered speechless. She said Erik was delivering her roses, and... a note! How can this be possible? It sounds like the same thing that happened to other travelers in the archives.

I rub my temples in exasperation. If she has a connection with Phantom, that could only mean one thing... I'm going to lose my daughter to a masked man from the past! Our family has had quite a history with that time.. Including myself. I stare off in the distance, remembering the first time I met Christine's father, just realizing that the same thing happened to me.

It was the spring of 1863, the height of the London season. I was in my twenty's, already a veteran of traveling back in time, and I had decided on going to a masquerade ball. It was a flurry of excitement. People gathered from France, Italy, Spain, and even Russia for the event. I wasn't accompanied by anyone, but then, I saw him. He was standing near the entrance to the ballroom, looking very handsome in what he was wearing, though his mask was a little odd. Instead of it being different shades of colors or decorated like the others, it was just a plain ivory color. Walking in alone, he immediately noticed me, and asked me to dance.

Two dances later, I'm outside with him, our masks drawn away. We ended up talking for hours, lost in our own world, and not noticing anyone else. As it turns out, he was a time traveler as well, though he truly did belong in 1863. His name was Sir James Delacroix, lord of Derbyshire. In a matter of months, we were married, happily settled in my time.

Shaking my head from the distant memory, I long for him once more. 'Oh James, if only we had stayed in Warm Springs... This never would've happened!' My tears spill over my cheeks, and I find myself burying my head in my hands.

-Christine's perspective-

I'm still trying to ponder over the reaction to my time travel blunders. Why would she act like that? Is it because of who I'm connected with, or... Is there a deeper understanding to her feelings, like she's been there in that situation before? I'm thinking about it so much I get a headache, then it finally comes to me. What if... What if it has something to do with dad?

**As I said before, I'm so sorry I never posted! I'll make it up to all of you though. You have my word on it! Please review, because I would love your feedback!**


	7. Relived Pasts

Relived Pasts-

-Present day-

Thinking about this possibility, I head over to see my mom, and hopefully she has the answer to this dilemma. As I walk the long corridors of our estate, I'm trying to think of other possibilities on why mom reacted the way she did. 'Maybe she knew this was going to happen all along? or, she might secretly be pleased on my activation...' these ideas floated around my mind, as before I knew it, I was at the door of my mother's room where she retreated after I told her.

With a sigh, I Knock on her door.

"Mom? Are you in here? We need to talk."

" I'm here, Christine. You can come in. I was thinking of the same thing."

I enter her room, and sit on her bed next to her. I look at her straight in the eyes, and I can immediately tell that she has been crying because of the redness and puffiness of her eyes.

"Mom, are you alright? It looks as though you have been crying."

She doesn't reply, but silent tears roll down her cheeks instead. To comfort her, I sit closer to her, and grab a hold of her hand.

"Oh, you've been thinking of dad, huh? I actually need to talk about that."

She looks up to my eyes, and gains her composure again to talk.

"What is it?"

"Well," I started, "I was thinking about your reaction to my first time travel, and I wondered if it had a deeper meaning, like if it had anything to do with dad."

She stops a moment, and after a few moments of guarded silence, she replies.

"Oh, Christine. It does. I only reacted that way because it reminded me of what happened to me when I met your father."

"How exactly did you meet him, mom," I asked.

My mother began telling her tale after a moment's pause.

"I was twenty years old, already a veteran of traveling through time. I had decided to go to a masquerade ball that night in London of 1863. I traveled alone, and your father was standing at the front entrance. He was the first person I noticed, because his mask was different out of the rest of them. Instead of being a shade of vibrant colors like other patrons wore, he wore a pure ivory colored mask. Noticing that I was unaccompanied, he advanced toward me, and we ended up dancing for two consecutive dances.

"After that, we went to the gardens to get away, and your father and I talked for hours, our faces unmasked. I learned he was Lord of Derbyshire, and at that same time, we figured out that we should get married."

After a pause, she begins speaking again.

"Do you now see why I reacted the way I did? It just reminded me of that time, and I didn't want you to rush into that sort of thing. I mean, you are only sixteen, and your not out of high school yet."

"Oh mom, you worry too much. It's not like I'm going to instantly fall in love with Erik the first time I see him in person. That, I will keep to myself."

We both end up bursting into fits of laughter at the thought, and instantly, our mood turns brighter, almost as if we were normal again, or as normal as we could get under the circumstances. After a few moments to catch my breath, I get up to leave.

"Thanks mom. I appreciate the clearing up of that reaction of yours."

"Your quite welcome, Christine. It looks like we needed that time to just connect more."

With a smile, I leave my mother, content with the answer that I got, and finally a little normal since the news I received months ago (though it felt like an eternity).

-1883-

It has been many weeks since I heard Christine's voice, and I'm absolutely going mad! I simply cannot get any of my work done, because I can't hear her voice echo through my halls, and I am too distracted by it to do anything else. To give me something to do, I make myself some tea, and try to unwind.

Though I made myself some calming tea, my nerves just will not settle down... I'm just too distracted. 'Try to get hold of yourself, Erik!' I chide myself. It seemed to have worked a little, and I finally bring myself to play my piano again. Putting the remains of my tea in the kitchen, after I'm done washing out my dishes, I go over to my piano.

When I reach my piano, a flood of emotions rush through me... But these are emotions of joy, and happiness; Emotions that I have kept from myself for a long time. suddenly, before I can even sit down on the piano bench, I hear Christine sing, and play my piano. It is an odd tune, the likes of which I've never heard of in my life.

'I used to rule the world

Seas would rise when I gave the word

Now in the morning I sleep alone

Sweep the streets I used to own

I used to roll the dice

Feel the fear in my enemy's eyes

Listen as the crowd would sing

"Now the old king is dead! Long live the king!"

One minute I held the key

Next the walls were closed on me

And I discovered that my castles stand

Upon pillars of salt and pillars of sand

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing

Roman Cavalry choirs are singing

Be my mirror, my sword and shield

My missionaries in a foreign field

For some reason I can't explain

Once you go there was never

Never an honest word

And that was when I ruled the world

It was the wicked and wild wind

Blew down the doors to let me in

Shattered windows and the sound of drums

People couldn't believe what I'd become

Revolutionaries wait

For my head on a silver plate

Just a puppet on a lonely string

Oh, who would ever wanna be king?

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing

Roman Cavalry choirs are singing

Be my mirror, my sword and shield

My missionaries in a foreign field

For some reason I can't explain

I know Saint Peter won't call my name

Never an honest word

But that was when I ruled the world

Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh

I hear Jerusalem bells are ringing

Roman Cavalry choirs are singing

Be my mirror, my sword and shield

My missionaries in a foreign field

For some reason I can't explain

I know Saint Peter won't call my name

Never an honest word

But that was when I ruled the world'

I stood there, speechless, after the final chords rang through my piano. Christine is definitely in a more positive mood from when the last time she haunted me with her I sit on my bench,it's warm, and the new parchment I had just set aside to use was used by her. I start to play and sing the song, just as I had with the other song that did this same thing.

Instead of feelings of sadness, I get feelings of happiness and joy. I suddenly get pulled into the only joyous memory that I have. I was 15 at the time, and I was under the care of a master stone mason. I loved what I did, and those same feelings reflected what I was playing. After the song, I immediately started bursting out laughing. It was the most interesting and conflicting emotion I ever beheld. Then, I hear the distant sound of laughing from the cellars. One of the voices I instantly recognized as Christine's. Her laughter was like the musical tinkling of bells, like when I was an infant, and played with bells over my crib. There was another person with her, another feminine laugh, but it sounded more aged, as if she was with an older relative. Her mother, perhaps? I didn't dwell on it much longer, for the sound of their laughter faded slowly away, until I couldn't hear it anymore. The only thing I did after their laughter was gone was smile.


	8. Travelling through Time

**Hey guys! I'm SOOO sorry that it took me a month to write these chapters! I was super busy getting my schedule back in track for school. But, I'll try to post more often (when I have the time, that is). Anyway, Enjoy!**

Travelling through Time

-two years later, 2016-

It has been two years since dad was killed. I'm now eighteen, and bound to start college in a year. Right now, I've taken a gap year, to 'discover myself', supposedly. It's actually very nice, not having too many worries in mind (besides my job at the nearby cafe). I can do practically anything I want, and sleep in. Lately though, I've run out of ideas on what to do.

Today, I chose to spend my morning lazing about in one of the sitting rooms; where I've been reading Great Expectations. I set down my novel after reading nine chapters, and turn on the television.

'We are live in Paris, where a great snowstorm from the Northeast sweeps all across the country. Don't expect to get anywhere today; the snow has already gotten most of the roads covered, and it will be hard to get anywhere. I advise you to stay indoors, and keep warm.'

"What?! Snow!"

I turn off the T.V., throw open the curtains from a nearby window, and see the sight before me. The grounds of our estate are blanketed by a thick, white, powdery snow. Big snowflakes the size of cotton bolls fall from the sky, creating all of Paris a winter wonderland. It's beautiful! With Paris under all this snow, it bleeds the color out of everything, turning everything it touched a pure, innocent white.

"Mom!" I call out.

"Look out your window! you've got to see this!"

My mother was nearby, in the library next door to the sitting room I was in. She rushes into the room, and says

"What? What's going on, Christine?"

"Look outside! It's snowing!"

Sure enough, she peers out through the window, and exclaims

"Good gracious! We better get those extra layers on, because we are going to have ourselves a snowball fight."

After saying this, she looks at me, and she has a mischievous glint in her eyes, making her seem like a child than the aged woman standing before me.

"Last one out is a melted snowman!" My mother calls out like a child as she rushes out of the sitting room to get snow clothes on. I chase after her, and call out through the corridor:

"We'll see about that!"

As I run to my room to get the snow gear on, I could not help but think of how similar this situation was. I was six, and it had snowed for the past few days. I was just so excited to go out and play in the snow.

_'Daddy, look! It's snowing! Can we go out to play? '_

_'Of course. last one outside is melted snowman! My father says, a childish hint of challenge in his voice as he says it. I call out:_

_'We'll see about that!' as I rush to get my snow boots on. _

_'Come on, Mon Ange; I'm waiting.' _

_'Coming daddy!'_

I finish getting dressed, and rush out the front door. When I pull open the door, all I see is... Snow covered grounds.

"Mom? Where are y-"

I was cut short by a snowball that landed directly in my face. Sputtering, I wipe off the snow in my eyes, pick up a handful of snow, and pack it into a ball. I pull my arm back, and throw my snowball. It finds it's mark, hitting my mother straight in the chest.

"I'll get you for that one, Christine!"

I run away onto the grounds, dodging snowballs, and hide behind a tree, trying not to laugh as I refill my makeshift snow ammunition, and build a snow wall to hide behind. Thinking I was safe behind my wall, I don't hear the crunch of snow signalling footsteps behind me. I find that my mother was directly behind me, and throws snowballs at me. I scream, and duck to my wall, laughing as I get pelted with snowballs.

This was the first time I had laughed in months, after the time when I talked to mother about her reaction to my time, and burst out laughing at the thought that I would instantly fall in love with Erik the first time if I met him face to face. The whole situation got me into fits of laughter, and it reminded me of a song called On Top Of The World by Imagine Dragons, Especially the chorus.

_'I'm on top of the world, eh. _

_I'm on top of the world, eh._

_I've been waitin' on this for awhile now, _

_paying my dues to the jury._

_I've been waitin' to smile eh._

_I've been holdin' it in for awhile, eh. _

_take you with me if I can, _

_I've been dreaming of this since I was a child, _

_I'm on top of the world.'_

With those lyrics in mind, all I can do is smile.

-1883-

I awake in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. I had another dream about Christine. It's the first one in months, and it has shaken me to the core. I climb out of bed, and build a fire in the sitting room to calm down. Already the dream fades, but it's like I was there in her time; It was so real and vivid.

I was walking down rue de la roses, and the neighborhood was covered in snow. I can still feel the biting cold in my bones. I haven't a clue where I'm walking, and I suddenly walk where small shops and homes line the streets. In front of one of the houses, an older woman and her daughter have a snowball fight in their yard. I'm drawn to them by the daughter's voice. It's Christine's! Seeing her build her snow fortress, I couldn't help but to stifle a laugh as her mother sneaks up behind her for a surprise attack.

It was a warming feeling that built up inside when I saw her. She was absolutely beautiful. She had her chocolate brown hair down, and it fell in glossy waves on her shoulders. Her eyes were the same color, and brightened by exercise, along with her cheeks, which were reddened by the cold.

they were out there for awhile, before they started for the front door. But, before they could reach the door,Christine disappears out of thin air! Her mother at first looks surprised, then looks relieved... I was very concerned at this point, for I had not a clue where she went. Then, I had woken up.

It was a very strange dream, and before I could ponder over it any longer, I could hear her, screaming, in the depths of the cellars. I quickly grab my cloak and sword, and dash out at full speed, praying I'm not too late to save her.


	9. An Unexpected Rendezvous

An Unexpected Rendezvous

-2016, 1883-

I was so ready to get back inside after our intense snowball war. I was soaked head to toe in melted snow, and it was getting dark.

"Mom, let's go back inside!"

"Alright! I'll make some hot chocolate to warm us up when we get inside."

As we were heading back inside, I get this massive wave of nausea, and then my vision blurs. The last thing I hear is my mother, gasping in surprize.

When I become conscious again, I'm in a torch-lit tunnel. Also, I notice my clothes change from winter clothes to a midnight blue frock. 'Oh no! I must've actually traveled back!' That thought passed through my mind as I walked deeper into the tunnel. I should've been scared, but I felt the complete opposite. I felt something heavy in my pocket not to long after I had walked from my travel spot. When I reached inside to see what it was, I pull out a silver dagger with our family crest engraved in the hilt of the blade. Putting it back for safe keeping, I walk ever so deeper into these meandering tunnels, having no idea that someone was following close behind me.

As I go lower and lower into this neverending tunnel, the air around me turns cold, and I feel as though I'm being watched. Not standing the feeling anymore, I put my hand in my pocket, Grasp the dagger, and turn around. There was in fact someone following me, and he looked very grubby. His clothes were tattered and smudged with grease, and he had rope wrapped from his shoulder to his waist diagonally.

"Who are you, monsieur, and why are you following me?"

"I'm Joseph Bauqet, master scene-changer of this here opera house. Ya looked lost, and a pretty girl like yourself shouldn't be wanderin' around these cellars all alone," Bauqet got closer to me.

"Especially with the opera ghost runnin' 'round these parts. Come, I can take ya where you can be safe." With that, he attempted to grab my arm, but I pulled away, and started to run. He came chasing after me, and finally after a few moments, he pulled me down by my arm, and tried to get on top of me while I was down.

"Where do you think Yur goin', missy?"

I scream, and pull out my dagger, slicing his cheek. He howled in pain, and loosened his grip on me. I broke free, and ran from him, screaming

"HELP!"

Meanwhile, Bauqet chased after me some more, growling

"I'll get ya, ya lil wench!"

It seemed as though no one was going to come, and I decided to defend myself. I stopped running, and faced him, dagger in hand.

"Now I've got ya, ya stupid whore!"

"I. Am not. A Whore!" I say through gritted teeth. I unsheathe my dagger from my pocket, ready to strike.

"Oh what'r you gonna do? Cut my meat for me?" With those words, he pulls out a dagger of his own, old and rusted.

He charges at me, and I back flip over him in defense, kicking the back of his head along the way. Suddenly, He grabbed me from behind, and has the rusted dagger at my throat.

"What'r ya do now, ya jumpin grasshopper?"

I whimper, knowing I should've turned around faster, and now I'm caught. I scream out one final plea.

"Please! Someone help me!"

In my ear, Bauqet says:

"No one can hear ya scream from down 'ere. Yur all mine!" He cackled, and I feel tears spring in my eyes.

"Please Monsieur, let me go!"

He turns me around, his back to the tunnel we just went through, giving sight of a masked man running in the far distance of the tunnel, coming closer with each long stride. I continue to weep, dagger at my throat, thinking these moments will be my last. Finally, this masked person comes to my aid.

"Let her go, Bauqet!" the man says through gritted teeth.

"Fine. I will!"

He lets me go, but when he does, he slices deep into my throat, and tosses me aside. I feel the warmth of my own blood pouring out as I gasp for air. In tear blurred eyes, I see my rescuer dueling with my attacker, and to help my rescuer further, I throw my dagger at Bauqet for one last chance for revenge. As I throw it, I start to lose consciousness, and it feels as tough time slows. The dagger finds its mark, and lodges right in Bauqet's throat. My vision goes dark, and I feel myself collapse to the cold, stony ground of the cellars.

I hear Christine scream once more as I run to her aid, helping me find her with much more ease. I also hear another man's voice growling out each word he said. That only makes me run faster. I'm running down the southwest corridor, close to the entrance to the cellars through the opera house. In the distance, I see her.

She's wearing a midnight blue frock this time, and not the strange winter clothes she had on previous in my dream. Bauqet has her at knifepoint, and I hear her tearfully plea for help.

"Please! Someone help me!"

I then hear Bauqet mumble something in her ear, which only made her weep more.

"Please Monsieur, let me go!"

She catches sight of me,and has a relieved look on her face. I draw my sword just as I get a yard away from her. Angrily, I grit my teeth.

"Let her go, Bauqet!"

"Fine. I will!"

He lets her go, but the knife blade slices deep across her throat as he throws her down to the ground. Gasping for air, she desperately looks at me a moment, and then looks away in the other direction. With a cry of fury, I lunge at Bauqet, to make him pay. He blocks my move with difficulty. Now was my chance. I slice his hand to make him drop the weapon; rendering him defenceless. Before I can make a death blow to his middle, a silver dagger cuts through the air, and lodges in the side of Bauqet's throat. His eyes widen, and then he goes down, killed.

I look back to Christine, and I swore for a moment she had a smile of satisfaction on her face, knowing that she had hit her mark before she fell. Qwickly going to her aid, I do the best I can to dress her wounds now, tearing a piece of my cloak to suppress the bleeding. With that being done, I wrap the rest of my cloak around her ashen body. I pick her up, careful not to bump her head on any torches, and sprint off back home, hoping I can still save her in time.

-1883-

Through each corridor, I worry. 'Will I make it to my living quarters in time, to save Christine?' To make it in time, I run in a full sprint, carefully avoiding the traps that I had laid there. With each passing moment, she grows paler and paler, and it only makes me run faster.

Right as I get to the boat on the lake, she starts to stir, coughing up a bit of blood as well.

"Hold on, mademoiselle, we are almost there."

Hoping she had heard me, I try as fast as I can to get home in time to dress her wounds properly. Once we touch the shore, I quickly scoop up her trembling body in my arms, tie up the boat, and race to the soon as I was inside, I quickly take her to the sitting room, and set her gently on the setee. As I set her down, she uttered a soft cry of pain.

"Don't worry Christine, you are safe now," I said softly to her as I prepared to stitch up her wound. After sterilizing the needle over candlelight and threading it, I untie the scrap of cloak that suppressed the bleeding. I drop the scrap immediately in surprize. Her wound had healed perfectly, leaving only a jagged scar at the base of her throat, which even that was growing smaller and smaller with each passing moment.

I gasp, and stare in wonder and confusion. 'How in the bloody hell did that wound heal that fast?' As I stared at her, I noticed that the color had returned to her complexion, and she was slowly regaining consciousness.

I quickly avert my gaze, and gather the supplies that I had originally taken out to use. As I turned away from her to leave the room, I hear her stir, and awaken.

"Monsieur? Can you please tell me where I am?"

I turn back around to face her.

"You, mademoiselle, are underneath the Palais Garnier," I reply in as level as a tone I can muster.

At first she looked confused, then, after a moment of processing the information, she had a look of recognition crossing her face as she made eye contact with me.

"Are you... The one who sent me those roses and note?" She asked in a trembling voice.

My eyes widened in surprize. 'So she did receive those things.' I thought before answering. With that silence, she hastily said

"Oh, you probably think I'm an escapee from an asylum.. Please disregard what I just said."

"Oh, not at all, Christine. I did send those. I was just surprised that you even received them... I surely thought that it was a dream."

There was a few moments of guarded silence, when Christine finally spoke again.

"Well.. thank you, for those little gifts. They really gave me hope at a time where I hurt the most."

Another silence started, before I had replied.

"Your quite welcome, Christine. I should thank you too, for the music that you had given me..." I cut off, not daring to express my feelings to her, for I hardly knew her.

"Your welcome. That's how I have been venting my emotions..." She cuts off, and I resume where she left off with my perspective.

"Yes, you gave me quite a scare one night when your voice filled my home and my piano played on its own... You managed to scare the opera ghost." I suppress a chuckle.

She laughs, filling the room with her bell-like laughter. I join in a little, feeling the joy wrap around the room, turning it from a dark, miserable place to a warm, cozy room just with her laughter.


	10. Bonds through Music

**Hey Guys! I'm so sorry I haven't been posting as often anymore; I'm just so busy I can't find the time to. I'll try to post as soon as I can, so please don't give up on the story! Anyway, here's the next chapter, so enjoy!**

I knew I was going to collapse right as I threw the weapon, but I had to take the shot as revenge for my life; if I will die, and that might be soon. I heard the sickening thud of the dagger as it reached its mark, and I felt my mouth curve into a weak, satisfied smile. Then, as though the burst of adrenaline immediately disappeared from my body, I collapsed.

Everything was dark, and I only had little use of my senses to the outside world. A bright light crossed into the darkness, and I saw my life literally flash before my eyes.

It was like I was watching a home video, except this video was of my memories. Things I kept locked deep inside, and never dared to approach again flashed past. Memories of my last time with dad, and many other terrible mistakes in my life. I tried to look away; ashamed, but I couldn't. Then, my last memory flew past.

_"Please! Someone help me!" _

_In my ear, Bauqet says:_

_"No one can hear ya scream from down 'ere. Yur all mine!" He cackled, and I feel tears spring in my eyes. _

_"Please Monsieur, let me go!" _

_He turns me around, his back to the tunnel we just went through, giving sight of a masked man running in the far distance of the tunnel, coming closer with each long stride. I continue to weep, dagger at my throat, thinking these moments will be my last. Finally, this masked person comes to my aid. _

_"Let her go, Bauqet!" the man says through gritted teeth. _

_"Fine. I will!"_

_He lets me go, but when he does, he slices deep into my throat, and tosses me aside. I feel the warmth of my own blood pouring out as I gasp for air. In tear blurred eyes, I see my rescuer dueling with my attacker, and to help my rescuer further, I throw my dagger at Bauqet for one last chance for revenge. As I throw it, I start to lose consciousness, and it feels as tough time slows. The dagger finds its mark, and lodges right in Bauqet's throat. My vision goes dark, and I feel myself collapse to the cold, stony ground of the cellars._

Then, the light that I saw before vanished, and all the pain that I didn't feel before rushed back to me in one big sweep. My senses were returning somehow; I didn't die. The pain was too great, and a weak moan of pain escaped from my lips. It was still too dark to see anything, but a soft voice near me said:

"Don't worry Christine, you are safe now."

Though I heard him, I didn't reply. Instead, I tried to relax my tense muscles by going a bit more limp in someone's arms; probably the arms that belonged to whoever saved me earlier. I tried racking my exhausted brain to remember who it was, but all I remembered was a flash of ivory and flowing black silk.

I cough a bit, and blood comes along with it. The voice, concerned, says:

"Hold on mademoiselle, we are almost there."

I lose consciousness again, and when I awake, I'm inside a house, on a settee. I try to sit up, but I did so too fast, and a massive wave of vertigo overcame me. Dizzy, I slump back on the throw pillow my head was resting on. I slowly turn my head, and a man had turned to leave.

"Monsieur, can you tell me where I am?"

Surprised, he turned to face me. I immediately know that it was Erik who had saved me, for he had a mask covering the right side of his face. He had shining, jet black hair, and startling blue-grey eyes. He had a pale complexion, and was rather slim. He then parted his full lips and spoke in a pained, level tone.

"You, mademoiselle, are underneath the Palais Garnier."

A look of recognition crossed my face as I stared at him, and my eyes widened. I finally spoke a few moments after, my tone trembling and weak as I spoke.

"Are you... The one who sent me those roses and note?"

Before he replied, his eyes widened in surprise. Before he had a chance to reply, I hastily said:

"Oh, you probably think I'm an escapee from an asylum.. Please disregard what I just said."

"Oh, not at all, Christine. I did send those. I was just surprised that you even received them... I surely thought that it was a dream."

There was a few moments of guarded silence, when I finally spoke again.

"Well.. thank you, for those little gifts. They really gave me hope at a time where I hurt the most."

Another silence started, before He had finally broke the awkward silence.

"Your quite welcome, Christine. I should thank you too, for the music that you had given me..." He cuts off.

"Your welcome. That's how I have been venting my emotions..."I cut off, and he resumes the narrative with his perspective.

"Yes, you gave me quite a scare one night when your voice filled my home and my piano played on its own... You managed to scare the opera ghost." he suppressed a chuckle.

I laugh, And after a little bit he starts to laugh as well.

"Since you already know my name, can you tell me yours?"

"I'm Erik. Or... The Phantom of the Opera," He says, and adds the nickname with a hint of playfulness in his tone. I chuckle, and he hardens. He clears his throat, and tries to say something more, but then abruptly walks out of the room.

I sit there on the settee, dumbfounded. 'Why would he abruptly leave the room like that,' I wonder as I try to stand from the settee to see where he has gone. I get a wave of vertigo, and sit back down to wait for it to pass.

After a moment, I here the beginning chords of Liebstraume, by Franz Liszt. I've only heard the piece once before, and only for a few minutes, but what I was hearing was magnificent. I wandered from the sitting room to find the source of the beautiful piece, almost as if I was in a trance. My feet were leading me into a corridor, then right to another room.

The door was ajar, and I opened it the rest of the way, very quietly, to go into the room. The room was occupied by many volumes of written works, some bits of pieces scattered about on the floor. In one corner was a music stand, a Flute and Violin resting near it. On the right, the room was occupied by a grand piano, and Erik was playing the piece, seemingly lost in his music. I leaned on the doorway, just watching him play the beautiful piece.

I start to walk to him, and too soon, the song was over. The spell I was under had broken, and another wave of vertigo washed over me. I wobble out of balance, and I grasp a nearby chair to keep me from falling to the ground, making a slight noise. Erik turned around, and came over to me, seating me in the chair so I can gain my balance once again.

"Are you alright, Christine," he asked, in a concerned tone.

"I'm fine," I reply. "I'm just recovering from not being on my feet for a little while. I heard you playing that Liszt piece, and I followed the music to you."

He looked a little shocked, but only for a second, as he was then directing me to my feet, and guiding me to the cozy sitting room.

I fire was glowing on the hearth as we were talking about various pieces of the era, and of the past. I then start a different subject.

"I must be such a bother, being the damsel in distress almost every minute you turn around."

He looked a bit irked by my statement, and a pregnant silence fell upon the room. Finally, He mustered up the courage to say something.

"Well, um... I believe we can fix that.. I can- teach you a few things, to- defend yourself." He coughed out of embarrassment. Though I already knew how defend myself, I accept his offer, making this a chance to know one another a bit better.

"I would like that. When shall we start?"

"As soon as you are able to stand for a few moments without losing your balance," He replied jokingly. I laughed a little, and a laugh, similar to my own had begun along with mine. It was enchanting, the way his face lit up with amusement, the lines around his face crinkling into a face of joy, instead of the hard, morose expression I had first seen him with. The laughter stopped, and I looked into his blue-gray eyes. We made eye contact for a fleeting moment, before we both quickly turned our heads in embarrassment, a blush forming on both our cheeks.

After a few moments of staring down at our shoes, I felt stronger, and looked back up to him.

"Erik?"

He looked up, staring at me.

"Yes, Christine?"

"Well, um.. I was wondering if we can start those self-defense lessons now..."

He straightened up in surprise. raising a brow, he said

"Are you up to it? I mean, we can always do it tomorrow when you have more strength-"

"I can do it. I feel much better."

"If you insist.."

He had given me clothes to change into that would be more comfortable to move in (But of course keeping to the Victorian women's modesty) while he went to get a few things planned for me. He had given me a simple servant's dress, loose and comfortable to move in, from the costume vault of the opera house. It hugged my figure nicely, and I had hoped he will notice during this session. He soon came back, then led me to the outside of his house on the shores of the underground lake. He handed me a saber, much like his own, and showed me how to wield it.

"Here... It looks as though you have done this before. Has anyone taught you defense?"

"No," I lied a little. "I just kind of picked up bits and pieces of it through observation."

"Well, this will be much easier than I thought then."

Erik then showed me the most elementary of moves, which i mastered within seconds. Seeing my rapid progress, he had challenged me to a duel to see what I knew, and my skill level.

"Now, if I go too hard on you, please let me know. I don't want you do get hurt. Are you ready?"

I nodded, getting into stance.

"En garde!"

We had started off slow, then advanced on each other with fiery intensity. I had a slender figure, so it was easy to duck and move as swift as I did. We had parried and thrust our way up and down the shore, not breaking one another's concentration. Then, I found myself to be cornered. Being cornered, I couldn't move as swiftly as I wanted it to, and as a consequence, Erik's blade cut my shoulder, slicing a rip in the sleeve of my dress. I gasped in surprise, and found my shoulder was cut. It wasn't too deep, but blood was starting to stain the ripped fabric. I winced, but I then felt a surge of adrenaline course through me as I vowed for playful revenge. To get myself out of the corner I was trapped in, I had to back flip over him, much like what happened in the cellars. I did so, landing silently behind him, and then I ripped the fabric of his shirt a little on his shoulder, cutting him only slightly; not nearly as deep as what he accidentally did to me. He gasped, whipping his masked face around to see me.

"How... No one has ever..." He was rendered speechless by my actions. He also noticed what he had done to me for he hastily produced an apology;he almost looked like he was going to cry in front of me on behalf of my shoulder.

"Oh, god! I never meant to hurt you in any way shape or form! I'm so sorry..." a tear formed in his eye, but he quickly wiped it away.

"Oh, Erik, it's quite-" He turned to face me suddenly with a more angered look on his face. He rose to his full height, and approached me in such a menacing manner that I took a step back in fear.

"No, it is NOT alright! You should've told me I hurt you, so I would've stopped! But... I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you..." His temper suddenly faltered, and tears started to stream down his frustrated face. He sank to his knees, sobbing uncontrollably.

Seeing him crying brought tears to my eyes. I sank to my knees beside him, realizing the pain he would feel, as though his pain was my own. My wound had healed within minutes, but that wasn't the reason I sank to my knees; he had thought it was though.

"Oh god, what have I done!" He said, crying even harder.

My sobbing had tapered, and, in a tear strained voice, I said

"Hush now, Erik. I'm quite alright."

I lift his chin so his eyes were level with mine; he flinched at the touch. I almost started to cry again, for I saw the hurt and emotion swimming in his eyes of blue-grey as I made eye contact with him. Again, I consoled him, soothing him with my voice.

"Shh. It's alright. I'm perfectly fine, thanks to my uncanny ability to heal super fast."

That made him smirk a little; he was finally calming down. I felt an urge to hug him, and I did so, making himself flinch.

After the shock of my sudden hug, he held me closer to him, crying softly into my hair. He regained his composure, and stood up shakily, making me stand as well.

"No woman has ever willingly wanted to touch me, much less hug me.."

Though I knew the answer, I inquired more.

"Why?"

"It's what's underneath my mask... They-they think I'm a hideous creature that doesn't even deserve living on the streets."

A few moments pass, and I come closer to him, putting my hand on his masked cheek. Instinctively, he turned away, but not without me pulling off his mask. His cheek was marred by angry, sweltering scars; as though he was burned, and the skin covering it was but a thin, shiny film, exposing a few main arteries in his face. I never said a word, never turned my head in disgust, or scream at the sight; I have seen far worse portrayed on Broadway, so this was nothing. I let the mask fall to the floor, and he quickly turned to meet my eyes, an angry look on his face, for he was expecting a look of horror. Instead, he got a calm, sorrowful expression. A tear had escaped my eyes as I silently cup my palm to his exposed face. His face softened, and he pulled me close in an embrace. Into my ear he had whispered

"Oh, Christine..."

**How did you guys like it? Please review, because every single one I get means so much to me!**


	11. Kitchen Misadventures

**Here's another chapter! Enjoy!**

~Erik's Perspective~

I had given her clothes to change into that would be more comfortable to move in (But of course keeping to the Victorian women's modesty) while I went to get a few things planned for her lesson. I had given her a simple servant's dress, loose and comfortable to move in, from the costume vault of the opera house. I soon came back, and proceeded to lead her to the the shores of the underground lake. On our journey there, I had noticed that the dress I had given her certainly hugged her figure nicely, But I never commented further on it, deeming the conversation inappropriate.

When we had gotten there, I handed her a saber, much like my own, and showed her how to wield it.

"Here... It looks as though you have done this before. Has anyone taught you defense?"

"No. I just kind of picked up bits and pieces of it through observation."

Knowing this information, I was surprised that she didn't defend herself against Bauqet, if she had learned by observation, and replied; quite candid.

"Well, this will be much easier than I thought then."

I then showed her the most elementary of moves, which, to my surprise yet again, she had mastered within seconds. Seeing her rapid progress, I had challenged her to a duel, to see what she had retained, and her skill level.

"Now, if I go too hard on you, please let me know. I don't want you do get hurt. Are you ready?"

She nods, getting into stance.

"En garde!"

We had started off slow, then advanced on each other with fiery intensity. She had a frustratingly slender figure, so it was easy for her to duck and move as swift as she did to block my attacks. We had parried and thrust our way up and down the shore, not breaking one another's concentration. Then, I had gotten her cornered. She couldn't couldn't move as swiftly, I had observed, when I had her cornered. She gasped, and I nearly chuckled aloud; the duel has come to a close, with me victorious. But, she wasn't done yet. She had managed to get herself out by backflipping over my head, landing silently behind me, and slicing my shoulder a bit, but it didn't break the skin too deep. I gasped, whipping around to see her.

"How... No one has ever..." I was rendered speechless by my actions. How did she do that? That was amazing! I was about to praise her, but then I noticed a deep gash on her right shoulder, the blood soaking some of the torn fabric of the dress. I hastily produced an apology, tears just about springing to my eyes. I had hurt her...

"Oh, god! I never meant to hurt you in any way shape or form! I'm so sorry..." a tear formed in my eye, but I quickly wiped it away, hoping she wouldn't see me cry on her behalf.

"Oh, Erik, it's quite-"

She started to say, before I had turned to face her suddenly with a more infuriated look on my face. I rose to my full height, and approached her in such a manner that I startled her, for she took a step away fro me in fear, only fueling my anger.

"No, it is NOT alright! You should've told me I hurt you, so I would've stopped! But... I would never forgive myself if anything happened to you..."

My temper suddenly faltered, and tears started to stream down my face. I sank to my knees, sobbing uncontrollably. I had realized the extent of what I was about to do... I was about to hurt her... That sweet angel, who has done nothing wrong, and yet... I was going to bring her harm...

She must've seen the pain and hurt in my teary eyes, and she had sank to her knees, sobbing. Remembering what I had done to her, I had thought she was still in pain.

"Oh god, what have I done!" I had burst out, crying even harder.

Her sobbing had tapered, and, in a tear strained voice, she attempted to comfort me.

"Hush now, Erik. I'm quite alright."

She then lifted my chin so her eyes were level with mine; I flinched at the touch. She had almost started to cry again, for she must've seen the hurt and emotion swimming in my eyes of blue-grey as she made eye contact with me. Again, she consoled him, soothing me with her voice.

"Shh. It's alright. I'm perfectly fine, thanks to my uncanny ability to heal super fast."

That made me smirk a little; she had managed to calm me down. She had suddenly hugged me, making me flinch once again.

After the shock of her sudden hug, I held her closer, crying softly into her hair. I then regained my composure, and stood up shakily, making her stand as well.

"No woman has ever willingly wanted to touch me, much less hug me.."

"Why?"

"It's what's underneath my mask... They-they think I'm a hideous creature that doesn't even deserve living on the streets."

A few moments pass, and she came even closer to me, putting her hand on my masked cheek. Instinctively, I turn away, but not without her pulling off my mask. I hear the mask fall to the floor, and I abruptly turned to meet her eyes, an angry look on my face, for I was expecting her to scream, or turn away in disgust. Instead, I had gotten a calm, sorrowful expression. A tear had escaped her eyes as she silently cupped her palm to my exposed face. My face softened, and I pulled her close in an embrace. Into her ear I had whispered

"Oh, Christine..."

I cry a little, keeping her in my embrace. Suddenly, I hear a soft rumbling coming from Christine. She looks at me, hardly containing her laughter. Then, she bursts out laughing, getting out of my embrace to hug her sides, to contain herself as she almost rolls to the ground laughing. Wiping my tears away, I burst out laughing as well, my booming laughter echoing off the walls of the cellars. When I could finally control my laughter enough, I had spoken to her.

"I'm guessing you're in need of nourishment?"

Giggling, she replied

"Yes, I guess so."

Remembering that my mask was off, I quickly go to retrieve it, but Christine stops me.

"You don't need this anymore. I can look upon your face without hesitation, and know that your face doesn't define who you really are."

Her words had moved me close to tears. Never in my life has a woman ever told me this. Swelling with pride, I lead her to the house; arm and arm, and decide to make her an Italian dish, called Fettuccine Alfredo.

"How does Fettuccine Alfredo sound? Coupled with a nice salad and wine, I think it would be an-"

"That sounds wonderful, Erik! I absolutely love Fettuccine Alfredo!"

Not knowing this, I reply, with surprise and excitement

"Well, that's perfect! I can make it any time you wish for it, as well as a wide variety of other foods from all over the world."

Her eyes shimmered with glee, and she smiled wide.

"Can I help you prepare it?"

"But of course, Christine!"

This feeling of acceptance and friendship truly felt wonderful. I've never felt this happy in my whole life! I practically skip to the kitchen, where we both prepare our dinner, smiling, laughing, and occasionally throwing bits of flour at one another.

After he had pulled me into an embrace, his unmasked face touched the top of my head. He had whispered into my hair; tearfully,

"Oh, Christine..."

I only hugged him tighter, fighting back the tears coming to my eyes because of the emotion that was in his voice, such emotion that can only be described as pain, and hurt.

Suddenly, I become aware of how hungry I was, for my stomach started grumbling. Erik lifts his face up to mine, startled, and I could barely contain my laughter. I pull from his embrace to burst out in laughter, holding my sides, just about rolling on the floor.

He wipes his eyes, then starts laughing along with me, our laughter intertwining and harmonizing as it echoed on the shores of the lake. He had a booming laugh, thoroughly expressing his joy in a way I have never heard before. after our laughter had died in the cellars, he asked

"I'm guessing your in need of nourishment?"

Still giggling at the thought of how perfect that broke the tension, I reply

"Yes, I guess so."

Erik turned to go back to his home, beckoning me with him, then abruptly remembered his mask. As he went to retrieve it, to put it back on, I stop him.

"You don't need this anymore. I can look upon your face without hesitation, and know that your face doesn't define who you really are."

He stopped; frozen by my words, and turned to look at me. His tense expression relaxed, and I saw a sense of pride well through him as he led me, arm in arm, back to his home. As we were taking our journey to his home, he strikes up a conversation about what we should have.

"How does Fettuccine Alfredo sound? Coupled with a nice salad and wine, I think it would be an-" I interrupt him, barely containing my excitement.

"That sounds wonderful, Erik! I absolutely love Fettuccine Alfredo!"

He looked shocked by my interruption, then, in an excited tone, he said

"Well, that's perfect! I can make it any time you wish for it, as well as a wide variety of other foods from all over the world."

My eyes shimmered with glee, remembering all of the fond times of preparing meals with my parents when I was little, and smiled wide.

"Can I help you prepare it?"

"But of course, Christine," He replied, just as excited as I was.

As we got to the house, he dashed over to the kitchen, with me barely able to keep up.

We got out what we needed, and started preparing our meal. I quickly prepared a Cesar salad, and started on the dough for the rolls as Erik did the sauce,and boiling the noodles, making precise, careful measurements.

It was so interesting to see him cook, and as I was rolling out the dough, he caught me staring at him in fleeting glances while he cooked, and smiled a little, a light blush forming on his cheeks. After I had put the rolls in the oven to cook, I pinched a bit of remaining flour into my hands and threw it, the clot of flour landing on his cheek. He swung around, a glint of mischievousness bringing light to his eyes.

"I'll get you back!" He vowed playfully, scooping up some flour in his hand, and throwing it; getting all over the kitchen floor, and on my dress. I gasp in mock surprise, wiping it away. He gets me again, hitting my cheek with a minimal amount. I laugh, then squeal playfully as he sweeps me off my feet, hands on my waist.

As I floated in the air, time slowed, and it was like life was suddenly in slow motion. I wanted this moment to last forever, with me wrapped gracefully into his arms. Suddenly, I see the pot of noodles start to boil over, and wrench grudgingly from his grasp to get it off the stove top to keep it from going completely over.

"Oh no! The pasta!" I shouted as I ran over to it.

Erik laughed, and got the rolls out so they can cool before we boil them.

"Let's get these out as well; I don't think burned rolls would taste good with our exquisite sauce."

Giggling, I reply

"I suppose not. It would ruin the taste."

He smiled, then got an idea.

"While waiting for the noodles to cool, do you wish to... play the piano with... me?"

His bashfulness had shown through yet again, and I agreed, letting him lead me out of the kitchen and to his piano.


	12. Reveling in the Past

We got there, and he had sat down on the piano bench, beckoning me to sit beside him. As I sat down, he asked

"Do you wish to play anything, or shall I?"

"I'll play, I guess... If that's alright with you, of course.." I turn to look at the ground, blushing.

He stood, and sat in another chair beside the piano.

"You have the floor, Christine."

I sit comfortably on the piano bench. I suddenly get nervous, but when I turn to face Erik, I see his reassuring smile, giving me a sense of calmness. Then, with trembling fingers, I start to play Good Enough by Evanescence. After the first few lines of the long introduction, I'm absorbed completely into what I was playing, letting the music take me over; possessing me, in its way. I felt every crescendo, every phrase.I had expressed every feeling and emotion I had; all the feelings of joy and happiness shone through. Then, I had started to sing.

_Under your spell again._

_I can't say no to you._

_Crave my heart and it's bleeding in your hand._

_I can't say no to you._

_Shouldn't let you torture me so sweetly._

_Now I can't let go of this dream._

_I can't breathe but I feel..._

_Good enough,_

_I feel good enough for you._

_Drink up sweet decadence._

_I can't say no to you,_

_And I've completely lost myself, and I don't mind._

_I can't say no to you._

_Shouldn't let you conquer me completely._

_Now I can't let go of this dream._

_Can't believe that I feel..._

_Good enough,_

_I feel good enough._

_It's been such a long time coming, but I feel good._

_And I'm still waiting for the rain to fall._

_Pour real life down on me._

_'Cause I can't hold on to anything this good enough._

_Am I good enough for you to love me too_

_So take care what you ask of me,_

_'cause I can't say no._

Within moments, the song had come to a close, my last note and chord echoing through the room. My eyes had closed during the final note, and I opened them, and turned to Erik. His eyes were alight with surprise and inquiry. I just hoped he listened to the lyrics closely.

"Christine... that was beautiful! Did you compose that yourself?"

I then remembered that Evanescence was after his time.

"Well, actually, that was just an on-the-spot sort of feeling. The song itself was written by someone else. I played it hoping you would notice what I had sung.."

I blush.

"I did. Those words were beautiful."

A furious blush arose to my cheeks, making it look like I was turning beet red. I looked down at my shoes in modesty, then shyly replied, looking into his shining blue-grey eyes.

"Thank you..." My sentance faltered when I noticed he had a bit of flour in his jet black hair, making me giggle a little bit. He blushed, then asked

"What is making you laugh? Do I have something on my face?"

In between giggles, I replied

"Well, a little, but there's.. There's a bit of flour in your hair!" I burst out in a fit of giggles, thinking how ridiculous it looked with the patch of white against his black hair. He hastily rubbed his head, getting it out of his hair; laughing as he did so.

I joined in, making the cavernous room seem bright and cozy. My stomach grumbled yet again, making us laugh even harder; Erik had tears in his eyes from laughing so hard.

"It..It looks like we need to get that pasta made, or your stomach will udderly protest once again," He had managed between laughs, than howled with laughter at the end of his sentence, barely containing himself. Seeing him this way was comforting, knowing that he had this side to him. We finally managed to stop laughing long enough to cook the rest of our dinner, a broad smile pasted on both our faces.

As we were finishing up,and putting the places at the table in order, I started to hum bits and pieces of Good Enough. Erik looked down at me, a smile on his face as he caught wind of some of the lyrics I had sung under my breath.

_Am I good enough for you to love me too…_

We set out the dishes, serving ourselves, and pouring a bit of wine in or glasses. After a bit of silence, I asked him about the deformity, but treading with great care so I don't hurt his feelings.

"Erik?"

"Yes, Christine?"

"How did you get those burns on your face?"

He hesitated, seeming a bit irked by the question, but after a moment, he replied.

"It was a long time ago, in a small village near the city of Lyon...I was only twelve years old at the time, and was living a normal life with my parents. I didn't have the face I had now, and was growing up to be a musician. I was in the church choir, and everything was going alright.. Until one day, everything changed..." I cut off, the memory taking me over, and I was there once again. I was aware that I was continuing the story for her, but I was back at my village on that fateful night. she grasped my hand, and asked

"Erik, what happened?"

Taking a shaky breath, I moved on with my tale.

"It was the eve of my thirteenth birthday; the date long since gone from my memory, for after that, no one celebrated my birth. The day carried on like normal, but when dusk hit... It was chaos. A band of thieves had ransacked the village in the dead of night, and set it aflame.

"I was standing in the kitchen at the time, getting a glass of water. I suddenly hear a scream come from a far part of the village, making me abruptly look out the window. Every house was on fire, and the fire was coming quick to our side of town. Our village leader, and many men had taken to getting everyone out, me included. We tried the best we possibly could to get everyone to safety, and to suppress the flames, but it spread too quickly.

"Many were trapped in their homes, and we couldn't save them... My parents included."

Christine gasped, and said

"Oh, that's terrible! Did you try to get them to safety?"

"Yes, that was exactly what I planned on doing," I replied, then continued with my tale.

"A few friends and myself heard their calls of distress, and rushed over to help them. Our house was completely up in flames by that time, and few of the adults had dared to approach it, their heads hanging low. 'There's no hope for them to live, Erik,' one had said, but I didn't want to accept that. I tied a piece of damp cloth over my mouth, then rushed in, much to my friends disapproval.

"It was like a maze. Pieces of the house had started to fall, and I had to work my way around them. I then saw my parents. They were trapped by flaming rafters. I had managed to work my way around to retrieve them, but my eyesight was blurred by the smoke, and my parents were starting to become disoriented from smoke inhalation.

"We were so close to the door, when a piece of our home fell, pinning my parents to their eternal graves, and the force sent me flying into flaming rubble... Luckily, my friends were close by, or else I wouldn't be alive. I hardly remembered the trip to Paris, but what I did remember was the look of abject horror on the villagers faces when they had looked at my face. Children cried, and women screamed at the sight.

"We finally arrived in Paris, and I was sent to an orphanage. I wasn't treated like the other kids. In fact, they had kept me in the orphanage attic, and locked me away into eternal night. My only comfort was my music, and the view of the stars through a hole in the roof. At night, I would sneak out, to be away from the harshness of that place. Sometimes, they would neglect to feed me, so I had to steal bread and leftover food from the markets."

"Oh, Erik that's awful! You're far away from them now, and no one can hurt you," Christine had soothed, seeing as I was nearly to the point of tears.

"I'm sorry to put that on you... But there is much worse to behold in the tale of my life, and I don't want to taint the mind of someone such as you; it would bring on nightmares."

I turn away from her, and walk out of the room.

Erik had told every detail of why his face was like that. I was almost driven to tears at the cruelties he had faced growing up. After I had soothed him, he apologized, and abruptly walked out of the dining room, leaving me in a state of confusion.

"Why had he shut me out? Was he afraid in some way," I had asked myself aloud. In the silence of the house, I had started to clear away the dishes, and cleaned up to set my mind on something else. 'I thought we were doing so well... But maybe I shouldn't have brought on such a sore topic, not after the trauma of today... But maybe, he will eventually open up.. But who am I kidding, he doesn't love me... Does he?' My mind raced at a million miles an hour, pondering all of these things. I don't know what I was thinking, asking him about a sore subject like that...

I succeeded in giving myself a headache, and after I had cleaned the entire kitchen and dining room, I plopped down on the settee exhausted; with no other room to be taken to, I drifted off to sleep there, the fire dying out.


	13. A Pleasant Surprise

'I had walked out on her... Oh, I felt so guilty! I knew Christine would never turn me away, but I already did that to her... and she didn't deserve to be treated as such, especially from me!' My thoughts were turning so many directions, I was beginning to get a headache. I heard the clatter of dishes being put away, and running water from the kitchen.

She didn't have to clean up.. I would've gladly done so myself. No matter, she was already doing them. I shift on my feet, and go to play my piano. Barely keeping the dynamic above a mezzo piano, I start to play a few unfinished projects to get my mind somewhere else.

I was transfixed into my world of music, and I had no sense of the time that had passed. After I had stopped, the house was silent as a tomb. I chuckle to myself, seeing the irony of the thought. I walk out to the dining room, and see that it's spotless. Perplexed, I go into the kitchen as well. Spotless once again fills my sight. I just stand there a moment, to see if this was real. If Christine is actually in my house.

As if on cue, a deep sigh breaks the silence of the house in one of the rooms. I turn, then walk out to the kitchen to find didn't take me long. She was in the sitting room, asleep on the settee. For a passing moment, I just stayed leaning on the doorway, watching her sleep. She was curled into a ball, as if to keep warm; the fire had died out.

Not taking too much time after that, I enter the room, gently scoop her into my arms so as to not wake her, and carry her into a room with an actual bed. As I laid her on the bed, I had pulled the covers to her torso, and she had shifted her body to get in a comfortable position. I had just stoked the fireplace with fresh logs, and got a warm fire going. As I did so, I hear her toss and turn on the bed. After the fire was started, I go back to her side, and look at her. She had a smile on her face, only igniting my curiosity on what she was dreaming of.

I caress her cheek, and before parting, I give her a kiss on her forehead. I slowly pull away from her face. Turning away from her before I do anything more rash, I walk away from the room to enter my own. As I was preparing for bed, I had pondered over many things. 'Would she want to stay here with me? Does she love me?' I shook my head angrily. Of course she wouldn't! she would get homesick, and wish to return. But I had held onto that little thought that maybe she does love me... I climb into bed for the first time in days, and just when my eyes were to close, I hear Christine scream.

I jolt awake, screaming and in a cold sweat. I sat myself upright, trying to figure out where I was in Erik's home, and the dream started flooding back to me, making me cry. Holding my knees, I sob once more. I hear Erik running, and I look at the door. It suddenly swings open, revealing a terrified Erik.

"Christine, what's wrong?"

I just burst into tears, and he sits on the bed beside me. I top crying long enough to tell him what happened.

"I had this terrible nightmare... I was in a deep forest, and it was pitch dark. Suddenly, these beasts came upon me, and I screamed your name. I screamed for what seemed like hours, but by the time I saw you running over to me, it was too late..."

I cut off, and start crying again, burying my head into his chest. He hugs me close, caressing my hair, and starts to sing a lullaby softly. His voice enchanted and soothed me to look at him with a tear stained face.

"Christine. It's alright. I'll always be there to protect you... Always."

He then continued the lullaby, putting me back into the soft protection of slumber, with him as a pillow.

I dash out of my chambers to the room I had put her in, swinging the door open. I see her bolted upright, holding her knees and crying. She looks up, tears in her eyes.

"Christine, what's wrong?"

She just burst into tears, and I sat on the bed beside her. After she had gained her composure, she had started to tell me what happened.

"I had this terrible nightmare... I was in a deep forest, and it was pitch dark. Suddenly, these beasts came upon me, and I screamed your name. I screamed for what seemed like hours, but by the time I saw you running over to me, it was too late..."

She cuts off, and starts crying again, burying her head into my chest. To comfort her, I pull her closer to me, caressing her hair. I then softly sing to her a lullaby. It must've calmed her down, for she had looked back at me with her tear stained face.

"Christine. It's alright. I'll always be there to protect you... Always," I had said. Then, I continued with the lullaby, putting her to sleep in my arms.

I finish the lullaby, then gently pull her away from me to set her on the pillows to the immediate left of her. I didn't want to leave her side, but I did anyway, out of respect. But, I stayed awhile longer to stroke her hair, and caress her cheek. I put my head to her ear, and whisper,

"I will always be there for you, _mon ange_."

I could've sworn that she had smiled at that comment, right before I left. Turning from her, I walk out of the room, and close the door behind me, thinking

'Oh, how I love her so...'

Groggy, I wake in the chambers Erik had set me into the previous night. My dreams had finally took a turn for the better after his comfort and support. I had no memory of the other dream that had caused me to wake with a start, but I did remember the care Erik had bestowed upon me before I drifted off to sleep in his arms.

Sighing, I get up from the warmth of the bed, and try to find something to wear. Luckily, Erik had kept the dresses and things he had originally bought for Christine. Sifting through the wardrobe of assorted gowns, I finally settle upon a simple hazel colored day gown, and managed to get myself into the proper accessories on my own. Feeling the need to do something with my hair, I walk over to the vanity, where I find many things scattered about. Picking up a beautifully carved ivory hairbrush, I work out the monstrous tangles in my hair. After that, I part my hair halfway and put the top part of my hair into a thick black barrette, letting the bottom part cascade neatly onto my shoulders. Looking into the mirror of the vanity, I see a satisfied reflection of myself stare back at me.

I then finish the ensemble with a pair of simple black gown slippers I had found deep in the recesses of extravagant piles of shoes. 'Erik has got good taste,' I say to myself, chucking. Feeling refreshed, I walk out of the room, and try to find Erik.

"Erik," I call out in the corridor. No answer.

Worried, I investigate each room, even the music room. They were all empty. Panicking a little, I throw open the front door, and nearly make him drop the bags he was carrying under his arms as I run into him.

"Erik! There you are," I say, a bit flustered as I regain my composure after running into him.

"Well, someone was in a bit of a hurry to leave," He replied bitterly, setting the bags down in the foyer to cross his arms.

After realizing that he thought I was trying to flee, I quickly reassure him otherwise.

"It wasn't like that at all! I woke up, and realized you weren't here, so I was going to go out of the house to try and find you. When I opened the door to find you, I ran directly into you."

A wave of relief crossed his face as he uncrossed his arms to pull me into an embrace. I look into his eyes, and realize he had his mask on.

"Erik, did you get your mask from the shore after I fell asleep? You know you don't need to wear it in my presence."

"I actually have a few more masked stored in my chambers, and I know that. How would I go into public otherwise without it?"

"That makes sense... Here, where do you want me to set the bags you have brought," I ask, taking notice of them. Letting me out of his grasp, he grabs them, and beckons me to follow. Behind his shoulder, he says

"I'll take them. I just went out to get some food, seeming now that I actually need to stock my cupboards."

I chuckle, then help him put away the groceries in the kitchen, humming a little as I did so. suddenly, when I reach into one of the bags to put another thing away, I hear a soft mewl in protest.

Gasping, I take a step back in shock. the bag tips over, and out tumbled a small Siamese kitten.

"Christine? What-" Erik starts to say, coming over to me, then sees the kitten sprawled out over the counter.

"How did this get into my bags," He asked in mock surprise.

I scoop it up into my arms, and cuddle it. The kitten looks up, staring at me with big, sky-blue eyes. It snuggled closer to me, purring, making me chuckle in delight.

"Hello to you too, little one."

Erik comes close behind me, and replies.

"Any name suggestions?"

"You're going to let me keep it," I ask him in surprise, causing a purr to rise from the small kitten.

"Well of course. I found the kitten stranded on the streets of the marketplace, and I figured a beauty such as her shouldn't be living in the streets where she could die at any moment."

"She's so cute! What are we going to name her," I ask, staring lovingly back at the kitten in my arms.

At the mention of 'we', Erik flinched slightly.

"We?"

"Well, of course!"

He shifted uncomfortably, then said

"What about... Ayesha?"

Knowing that I couldn't come up with anything better, I enthusiastically agree with the name.

"Erik, that's a beautiful name! Is it from another country?"

"Yes. It's Persian for 'little one'. Perfect for such a cat as her."

"I agree!"

Putting Ayesha down, I take out a small bowl and saucer. Then, I take out milk and some leftover meat to feed her. In the bowl, I pour a little milk into it, and after slicing the meat into little chunks and putting the chunks on the saucer, I place the dishes on the floor. Ayesha rubbed against my legs before starting her meal with an appreciative meow. Bending down, I scratch in between her ears, then turn to Erik, giving him a smile.

He smiles back, and pulls me into a hug yet again.


	14. Worries and Fears

The next morning, I head out to the market, seeing as I now had a reason to actually stock my cabinets to provide nourishment for Christine. As I boarded the small boat that was docked ashore, I couldn't help but feel a little guilt over not writing her a note ensuring her that I was safe. But, seeing as I wanted to get the errand done as soon as possible, the reason being mainly because I had wanted to get the kitchen stocked before Christine had stirred so she could have breakfast.

Gliding over the lake, I couldn't help but ponder over her. Why had she come here? Why did I even decide to free her from the perverse grasp of Joseph Bauqet? Only one thought came through to me. 'It's because you love her!' It sounded like an ethereal, disembodied voice inside my mind. Telling me something I already knew. With this thought, I immediately thought back to the time where I once said that women were inquisitive little things. Now I'm not exactly sure I agree with that statement any longer. Chuckling to myself, I reach the other shore. I tie the boat up, then make the rest of my journey to the light in silence, hiding in the early morning shadows not yet struck by the fingers of dawn.

I make haste, grabbing what was necessary in each shop, then leaving the amount of Francs with equal value of the items withdrawn from the stock. As I finished, I soon had to carry the food in bags so I wouldn't drop them all. Suddenly, I hear a soft mewl coming from behind me.

I turn, and a Siamese kitten is at my heels, begging for a meal. The kitten was obviously born on the streets, for it's once shining coat of fur was matted heavily in mud, and the poor thing was starved; I could see some of its rib cage from a side view. It mewled once again, looking up to my masked face with a desperate, pleading look with eyes of pure, sky blue.

After a few moments of pondering whether or not I should keep the poor creature, I pick the little one up, gently set it into one of the bags, and go back home. Back to Christine. On the journey back, the kitten squirmed inside the bag, almost making me drop it. The kitten poked it's head out between a few stalks of celery and the small abundance of apples, and meowed in protest of its traveling conditions. Chuckling, I gently nudged it back in the bag, then said

"Get back in there little one; You're going to be a surprise for Christine."

With a final, muffled meow, it complied.

We got to the lake, and I set the bags carefully down into the boat, then climb aboard myself, and glide along the lake once more. I get to the door, but right as I was about to open it, the door suddenly swings open, revealing a terrified Christine. The suddenness of the action almost made me drop my bags as she ran into me, causing me to take a step back to keep balance.

"Erik! There you are," she had said, looking a little more than flustered after running into me head on.

I suddenly got a wave of pure bitterness wash over me. Why was she at the door fully clothed? Did she plan to leave the monster that she knows by Erik out of terror? In a tone dripping with the emotion coursing toward me, I reply.

"Well, someone was in a bit of a hurry to leave."

I set the bags down in the foyer, prompting a faint meow from the bag. I didn't show any emotion but one of pure bitterness and loathing as I crossed my arms. A look of realization with a dash of fear crossed her face, and she hurriedly explained herself.

"It wasn't like that at all! I woke up, and realized you weren't here, so I was going to go out of the house to try and find you. When I opened the door to find you, I ran directly into you."

A wave of relief and joy passed through me, and I pulled her into an embrace. I buried my masked face into the soft inviting curls of her hair, glad that she wasn't going to leave me. I almost wanted to cry, but she pulled away, and looked into my eyes, seeing my mask on.

"Erik, did you get your mask from the shore after I fell asleep? You know you don't need to wear it in my presence."

"I actually have a few more masked stored in my chambers, and I know that. How would I go into public otherwise without it," I asked her in a somewhat playful tone.

"That makes sense... Here, where do you want me to set the bags you have brought," She asked, taking notice of the bags sitting in the foyer in between us.

Instead of replying, I quickly scoop up the bags; the kitten had squirmed, making a slight rustling sound along with some movement. With the bags in hand, I beckon her to follow. Behind my shoulder as I walk to the kitchen, I finally reply.

"I'll take them. I just went out to get some food, seeming now that I actually need to stock my cupboards."

Chuckling behind me, we enter the kitchen, where I set the bags on the counter, hoping the kitten doesn't move at this moment to give the surprise away.

We then start the process of putting things away from the kitten-less bag first, then Christine starts to put the things from the other bag away. A meow of protest emanates from the bag as she reached in to grab the celery, and the bag shakes, tumbling over onto the counter and spilling the culprit of the noise and most of the other things. I hear her stifle a gasp, and, trying not to laugh, I try to see the little squirming kitten.

"Christine? What-" I then see the kitten sprawled out on the counter, along with the bushel of apples, grain, and noodles.

Continuing the jest, I then say, in a mock surprised tone

"How did this get into my bags?"

She scoops up the kitten, and snuggles it against her chest, making the little one purr, causing a giggle of delight burst from Christine.

"Hello to you too, little one," she said into the kittens ear.

I then came close behind her, and in a slightly hushed tone, I ask

"Any name suggestions?"

"You're going to let me keep it?!" she exclaimed in surprise, turning to look at me; the excitement of a new home causing a purr to rise from the kitten. Replying in a perfectly level tone, I say

"Well of course. I found the kitten stranded on the streets of the marketplace, and I figured a beauty such as her shouldn't be living in the streets where she could die at any moment."

"She's so cute! What are we going to name her," she asked, staring lovingly back at the kitten resting in her arms.

I flinch at the mention of 'we'. I've never really had anything such as this to share with anyone, so the mention of that word brought back painful memories when I had to live on my own in the woods for a short part of my childhood, with no one to share that experience with. Hesitantly, I ask

"We?"

"Well, of course!"

I shifted uncomfortably for lack of anything to say, then said

"What about... Ayesha?"

Hearing the name, Christine enthusiastically agreed with the name.

"Erik, that's a beautiful name! Is it from another country?"

"Yes. It's Persian for 'little one'. Perfect for such a cat as her."

"I agree!"

She went ahead and fed our new little companion, while I watched, leaning on the doorway with a smile on my face as I saw her prepare Ayesha's food. For her task of feeding her, Ayesha meowed in appreciation, and caused Christine to pet her as she ate, making my grin broaden. She turns around, and smiles at me for the kitten. I smile back, then pull her into a hug, and we are in each other's embrace for a little while. Suddenly, I feel Ayesha come in between us, rubbing up against our legs and meowing, making us laugh. The laughter fills the room, and smile as we welcome our new member of the household in... 'Our'... I'm going to start getting used to that term pretty soon...

-2016-

It's been a month since Christine had disappeared from our doorstep. The first week, I was fine; time passes differently from the past and the present, until the month had passed. Then I got worried. To keep from it looking suspicious, I filed a missing persons report, knowing that they will hunt in vain, for she isn't in this time period.

I had called my elder sister, Elizabeth, to see if she knew anything of what is happening to Christine. She picked up on the second ring.

"Harmony! I saw her on the news! Did you file a report?"

"Of course I did," I carefully replied. "I didn't want it to look suspicious that she was gone so long... Speaking of which, have you ever heard or read about a case such as this?"

"I've never heard of a case like this from any living relatives of our family, but I can check the archives of past relatives and other traveler families," She replied.

A silence relayed from the line, along with the shuffling and ruffling sounds of papers. Finally, she got back on.

"Well, according to what I have documented, one of our family experienced that, but a rare traveler family of men called the DuPrau's had an experience like that in 1935. The affected traveler, named Pierre, was away for six months, though in the time he traveled to it felt like only a few weeks."

"So does it say how they got him back?"

"I believe Pierre was visited by a council member of the Heavenly Order to bring him back safely. Otherwise, all the family could do was wait, send out a missing person report, and hope he would get back safely."

I take this in, and worry some more. What if she never returns? Would she be alright? As my mind processes and ponders over the questions, I hear Elizabeth on the other end of the line.

"Hello? Harmony, are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm here. Thank you so much for your help, Lizzy. I guess all I can do now is to wait, and hope for her return."

"We all will, sister. Take care, ok?"

"Alright."

The line disconnects. I put the phone back on the receiver, then pad into the kitchen to make myself a pot of tea, thinking of my baby girl, lost in time.

-1883-

After I fed Ayesha, I turned around and smiled at Erik. He smiled back, then crossed the short distance of the kitchen to give me a hug. I'm in his arms for what seemed like forever. It didn't matter, because I loved the way his slender frame could conform to mine in an embrace, and the way he smelled; a light scent of roses mingling with the faded scent of cologne. Suddenly, I felt Ayesha come in between us, rubbing against our legs. Pulling away, I start to laugh, Erik following not moments after as I look down at the mud covered kitten meowing for attention, smiling.

I then realized she needed a bath.

"Erik, could you draw a bath? We need to get this little one cleaned up."

At the mention of bath, Ayesha dashed out of the kitchen and underneath the settee in the sitting room, clearly not wanting to get clean. I turn to Erik, and he's suppressing a burst of laughter.

"Clearly, she doesn't want to be clean," He said, then laughed.

Giggling, I replied "Well, she does need to get cleaned... I'll try to coax her out, while you get the bath ready."

We break, and I go into the sitting room. I lay on my stomach in front of the settee to get Aeysha. She was pressed against the wall, all the way in the back, whimpering in fear.

"Come here, Ayesha. It's alright, a bath won't hurt you; We just need to get all of that dried mud off of you so you don't make a mess in the house," I cooed, getting her to inch out of the hiding place a little by enticing her with the promise of extra treats.

"It's ok. That's a good girl, now come out. If you do, I'll give you extra scraps."

Ayesha meowed hesitantly, then slowly came out of her hiding place, giving me the chance to pick her up and carry her to the bathroom. I cuddled her, and reassured her that everything will be alright. At least, I hope everything will.


	15. Recipe for Disaster and The Decision

**I'll be combining the two to make one long chapter, so I can start writing! I'm so sorry that I had neglected to write, but I'm working on it, and I think I might have this done before Christmas! It's been an amazing journey, and I love all of your guy's support! Continue reading!**

Christine pulled away from our embrace to look at the small, mud covered kitten. She then turned to me, and said

"Erik, could you draw a bath? We need to get this little one cleaned up."

As I open my mouth to reply, I see Ayesha out of the corner of my eye, running as fast as her little legs could allow from the dreaded notion of a bath.

I try to suppress a bout of laughter, but my attempts had all but shattered when I had finally replied.

"Clearly, she doesn't want to get clean."

Before Christine went to get the scared kitten, she giggled, then made a sort of game plan.

"Well, she does need to get cleaned... I'll try to coax her out, while you get the bath ready."

I nod, then head to the restroom to fill the immense bathtub with warm water. As I do so, I hear the muffled voice of Christine trying to coax Ayesha to take a bath. I only heard snippets of what she said, but they drove me to laughter.

"It's alright, a bath won't hurt you; We just need to get all of that dried mud off... Thats a good girl, now come out. If you do, I'll give you extra scraps."

A few moments later, after I had just gotten the bath ready, Christine comes in with the kitten in her arms.

"There. that wasn't so bad. She just is a little skiddish is all," She had told me.

I had thought that bathing a cat would be much easier. Was I ever the most incorrect about that statement. As soon as she came in contact with the water, she scratched and clawed her way out of the water's grasp. After we had soaked her through, Ayesha finally gave in to the bath, allowing Christine and I to get her scrubbed clean, with the most foul look of pure dread I have ever seen portrayed on an animal before.

The bathroom was left in ruins. Water and soap covered the floor, and a few of my good towels were soaked through and scratched up by the little devil. By the time we were done drying her off, she had leaped free from our grasp to return to her hiding spot underneath the settee with her reward of extra scraps. We also had our fair share of battle scars, ranging from scratches to the front of our clothes completely soaked through, as if we had decided to float face up in the underground lake.

"Well. At least now I can say that skittish was a major understatement," Christine sighed as cleaned up the mess by my side. We ended up bursting into laughter by the statement.

As we were cleaning, I catch a glimpse of Christine's arms, and I see they are covered in scratches. I gasp, then exclaim

"Christine! your arms!"

looking at my arms too, she replies

"Don't act so surprised. We just fought off what should've been born a tiger, so expect a few scratches. Besides, I can heal fast, so the only concern should be for yourself, because you look like you got the brunt of her attacks."

"I suppose..."

We got the mess cleaned, and after we were done, Christine insisted on tending to my wounds.

"Let's get these cleaned up. They look like some pretty nasty scratches."

"But I don't-"

"Oh, yes you do," she interrupted me. "We don't need to have infection set in. Now sit, and let me tend to your injuries.. With no protest."

Complying like a child would to their mother, I sit and let her tend to my wounds, watching her calm, composed face work on disinfecting and bandaging my arms.

Through the stinging of the disinfectants and cooling relief of the gauze on my arms, I notice how she really knows how to handle a medical situation. 'If she wasn't a woman of this century, she well could've been a doctor,' I had thought, then I remembered. She wasn't from this time, and could leave at any moment. Seemingly lost in thought, I caught myself staring into her face much longer than any gentleman should've, and quickly turn away as we made eye contact. She blushed, then smiled as she put away the medical supplies.

I really need to stop falling for her... But, I can't... I'm going completely insane with this foreign concept of love! What am I going to do?

-Councilman's chambers-

"We simply cannot let her stay. It will alter time and space!"

"That's not what you said about Pierre DuPrau, Andromeda," replied Eros.

"Oh, shut it, you lousy-"

"Enough," Raphael, head council member, interjected.

The room was occupied by the 8 members of the council, Raphael, Andromeda, Eros, Gabriel, Michael, Percival, Elizabeth, and David (So named the Angel of Music). Each were discussing the fate of Christine Delacroix, a traveller lost in time.

"I cannot have childish bickering amongst all of us on such a pressing matter," Raphael said, soon after Eros and Andromeda had stopped arguing. The other members of the council nodded and murmured in agreement.

"Now then. The matter at hand is more serious than that of Pierre's. Ms. Delacroix has already violated the policy on altering time by the death of Mr. Bauqet. Does anyone have suggestions as to what shall be done in the course of action?"

A few suggestions were scattered amongst the group in blurted answers.

"Take her out of the time period and wipe her memory of it happening."

"Kill off the Phantom!"

Mutters of protest arose over the two spoken choices until a timid voice spoke. The voice belonged to Elizabeth.

"As much as it pains me to say this,being her aunt, but what about letting her stay, and after a while, give her a choice whether or not to stay? We can organize a meeting for a certain date, and bring her here to make the choice." Everyone looked in her direction. Andromeda then spoke.

"and what will happen if she stays?"

"All memory of her in the times after 1883 will be wiped, and she would continue her life in the past," said Elizabeth.

"And if she leaves," Raphael asked soon after, receiving a growing interest in Elizabeth's plan.

"Erik Destler will have no memory of the incident, and Christine goes back to the year 2016 with no memory of the event either."

More murmurs arose, but they were positive instead of the argumentative air it previously took. Nods scattered around soon after, and Raphael spoke.

"It has been decided. After a few months, we will summon her to the meeting. Meeting adjourned."

-2016, Harmony Delacroix's perspective-

It's been a few days since I had last spoken to my sister about Christine's situation, and I'm starting to lose hope. To calm my nerves, I pad over to the kitchen to prepare a cup of tea. As I wait for the water to boil in the teakettle, the phone rings, causing me to jump from the sudden noise. I rush over to answer it.

"Hello?" The person on the other end gasps for air for a moment, then breathlessly replies.

"Harmony! It's Lizzy! *gasp* Oh my goodness, *gasp* You will not believe what *gasp* just happened!"

"Ok, Lizzy, just calm yourself down. Breathe."

I hear a few shaky breaths, then the breaths level out.

"Ok. I have just come from an Order meeting, and we have decided on what to do in the case of our little Christine."

"Do tell, Lizzy!"

The line is silent, as if she had hesitated to answer.

"Well, we have decided, in a few months, that we will summon her to the Order's chambers to decide for herself what she wants... But there are sacrifices that she will have to make."

"What type of sacrifices?"

"Well, if she chooses to stay with Erik, all trace of her being in the times after 1883 will be erased, along with the whole family's memory of her.. If she returns, her memory will be wiped of the incident, and the same goes for Erik."

My mind goes numb. Who will she choose? Will I ever see her again? Am I going to lose my little girl, my only child? Then, the logical part of my brain starts to kick in. It would be for the best, and by far a better solution than if they had wanted to permanently strip her of her powers. After a few moments, I answer.

"If that is what it takes, so be it. I support her in any decision she makes, even if that means I will lose her."

"That's good.. If you want to talk, just know I'll be there for you... I'm upset to, even if it was my suggestion in the first place. We will get through this, I promise."

I notice the teakettle had started to whistle as a signal of being ready, and I quickly shut the burner off; the whistle dying as the burner cools.

"Alright.. Talk to you later, Lizzy."

"Bye."

I hang up the phone, then start to steep the tea. When it was properly made, I pour a cup, then sit in the dining room. After a few sips, I start to cry, and I bury my face in my hands.


	16. Hopeful Holidays

**Here's yet another chapter! I wanted to get in the Christmas spirit early, so here's to fluff!**

It's been what feels like weeks since I was home, back in my own time. I remember it was just before Christmas when I had left, and now I have the sudden urge to know the date, to see if I have missed it. After putting all the medical supplies back where they belong (with the help of Erik, of course), I turn to face him.

"Erik?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know what the date is," I ask, hoping he doesn't say anything past the week before Christmas.

"It's December first. Why," He replies in an inquiring tone.

"Just wondering. It was the week of Christmas when I traveled, so I just wanted to know."

Silently rejoicing, I head over to Ayesha's hiding place, to dry her now clean coat. She's underneath the settee again.

"Ayesha, here kitty, kitty," I coax.

She doesn't move from her place, as if resenting the fact that I got her in the bath.

"I don't want you to freeze to death. Come here, so I can dry you off."

I get Ayesha to come to me, after many minutes of coaxing, and I grab one of the last remaining towels to dry her off. She complies, and after I'm done, She rubbed her head on my hand, purring contentedly.

I enter my room to get out of my soaked dress, and I put Ayesha down on my bed. Rummaging through all of the fancy gowns, I pick out a maroon colored day dress, and put that on, shedding off the one I had on previously. Once I was dressed, I brushed my soaked hair, getting out the monstrous tangles in it. I put it back in the style I had it before, and scoop Ayesha in my arms.

"What am I going to do with you, you little heathen," I murmured to her. All I got in reply was a loud purr.

Now that I was finished, I started thinking of what to get Erik for Christmas. Initially, I thought of a scarf, but I don't know what he would even like. After tossing around a few ideas, I finally get something. I can compose him a piece of my own! That will be something he would definitely enjoy!

Weeks had passed. At first it was hard to compose anything, but I decided on doing an adaptation of Carol of the Bells, to be in the festive mood. I hid my work so he couldn't find it, and worked on it in secret, when he was running errands or shopping. I had finally gotten it done exactly a week before Christmas. Then, I realized that the house wasn't decorated at all.

When I had made my way to find Erik, I saw that he was dragging something into the house through the front door.

"Erik, what are you doing?"

After dragging the thing halfway in, he replied

"Well, I decided to make the house more festive, and I acquired a tree and ornaments, and anything else to liven the place up in the spirit of Christmas." I see that he had other bags too, and I develop a plan to get all the stuff in the house.

"Here, I'll grab the bags, and you can carry the tree in, ok? it's a miracle you didn't get hurt trying to bring all of this down here."

I grab the bags of ornaments, and set them down on the settee in the main living room, and help him with the tree. Once we fit the tree in the door, we put it up in a holder, and place a tree skirt underneath. When that was finished, and brushed all the pine needles off of ourselves, me and Erik start to decorate the tree with the new ornaments.

After awhile, I start to hum a Christmas carol as I put up the ornaments, putting the mood in Christmas spirit. After a few bars, Erik joins in, his smooth tenor mixing with my soprano voice.

"_Deck the halls with boughs of holly,_

_fa la la la la, la la la la._

_'Tis the season to be jolly,_

_fa la la la la, la la la la._

_Don we now our gay apparel,_

_fa la la la la, la la la la._

_Toll the ancient yuletide carol,_

_fa la la la la, la la la la."_

After hanging the ornaments, I attempt to place the angel on the tree, but I'm to short to reach it, and before I start to jump to make it to the top, Erik suddenly grabs me by my waist to let me put it on the tree. In that moment, I felt like a kid again, and dad was still alive. He helped me with the angel, like Erik just did, and my eyes start to fill with tears, thinking of dad once again. Remembering that he's gone.

I was too caught up in memories to notice I was already on the ground, and I was pulled out of my memories by his concerned voice.

"Christine, are you alright? Did you get hurt?"

"No," I reply, wiping the tears from my face. "I just was thinking of my dad, is all. He died before I traveled back, and I was just thinking of how he would always let me put the angel on the tree, holding me up like you just did."

He pulls me into a hug, and something inside me breaks, making me break down in his arms. He lets me cry, soothing me and stroking my hair. I just couldn't help it. I've been suppressing my emotions of my dad around Erik practically the whole time I was here, and It finally broke. After a few more minutes, I stop crying, and hug him, mumbling a thanks into his chest.

He lets me go, and we decorate the rest of the house with tinsel, and holly. I even saw some mistletoe, but I let Erik hang those, chuckling to myself and wondering where he's going to put it. When the whole house is decorated, I decide to make some cookies, to make it smell like Christmas. After sticking a batch in the oven, I decide to see where Erik is off to. Soon enough, I find him in the music room, playing Christmas carols, happy and content.

I just watch him through the door, leaning on the threshold. Ever since I've been here, his whole attitude has changed. He seems more happier, and I'm starting to fall in love with that smile of his… He noticed my presence, and before he got a word in, I smelled the cookies, and dashed through the corridor, saying

"Oh no! The cookies!"

I get them out just in time, and I hear Erik enter the kitchen, chuckling. I turn to face him with the cookie sheet in my hand, a strand of hair getting into my face from my running. I put the cookies on the counter to cool, and smile.

"Never before have I seen a woman so concerned for the welfare of her cooking," Erik said, chuckling.

"Well, you wouldn't like burned cookies, now would you," I reply mischievously, coming over to him near the doorway.

" I suppose not."

He came closer to me, and soon, we were merely inches apart. He brushed the stray hair from my face, making my pulse quicken. Then, he cupped my cheek with his hand, and kissed me. It seemed to last an eternity, a blissful, sweet eternity. After we pulled away, he whispered

"Mistletoe."


End file.
